The Terror Within
by FallenAngel2013
Summary: Saved from ending his life by Chris, Piers Nivans is taken back to the United States' B.S.A.A to be treated by Dr. Riley Conway, a young virologist. But when a new threat emerges, she and Piers soon find themselves being chased by the organization they trusted most – the B.S.A.A...Piers/OFC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_**Piers died a hero, an honorable way to go… but I hated that Capcom killed off such an amazing character! So, I've altered the ending and this can be considered my version of what **_**Resident Evil 7**_** would be. It takes place shortly after the ending of Chris's gameplay (after the escape pod reached the surface), and it's going to be Piers/OC.  
**_

_**My OC is named Riley Conway, and she is a young virologist with the B.S.A.A. Please note that I am in no way a virologist. All my knowledge of the field is from the internet.**_

**Summary: **_**Saved from ending his life by Chris, Piers Nivans is taken back to the United States' B.S.A.A to be treated by Dr. Riley Conway, a young virologist. But a new threat emerges, and the two soon find themselves being chased by the organization they trusted most – the B.S.A.A. If they can't find proof of the traitor in the B.S.A.A, the world will suffer a bioterrorist attack that could see to the end of everything.  
**_

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own **_**Resident Evil**_**.**_

* * *

At seven o'clock in the morning, all Dr. Riley Conway wanted to do was sleep for a month.

Six months ago, she'd been busy trying to help B.S.A.A soldiers in Edonia who became infected with the C-Virus during attacks. She wasn't a soldier and didn't even know how to fire a gun, and being dropped off with a science team in the middle of a war-zone wasn't what she'd had in mind when she'd gone into work in DC the day before hopping on a plane. But the soldiers infected needed help, and as a doctor she'd taken an oath to help the sick. But the C-Virus was incredibly aggressive, and without a cure there was very little she could do apart from trying to dull their pain. In the end, most died from being shot after turning, or committing suicide before they could become J'avo or some other hideous mutation. She couldn't really say that she blamed them for choosing to kill themselves while they were still human. A few soldiers did survive, however, after being treated with just about every antidote she and her team had, but they would constantly have to take injections to keep the infection from spreading. It wasn't a cure, but it did keep the C-Virus from progressing and taking over. Unfortunately, because of the threat they posed they were under constant supervision, and most ended up dying further down the road anyways.

Things abruptly slowed down after she was in Edonia for two weeks, the J'avo disappearing. No one was sure where they went or why they left, but rumor was that it had something to do with Agent Sherry Birkin and her charge going missing. Riley didn't know, and though it concerned her, she'd been happy to go home to DC.

Just when things there started cool down, however, she had to turn her attention to battling the C-Virus that had spread like a wildfire in Tall Oaks via a gas, transforming almost everyone into zombies. Some people managed to get out of there alive, and more than a few were infected. The victims suffered the same fate as the soldiers in Edonia had, though, and most of those infected eventually died.

Then there was the incident in China, but she'd been allowed to remain in DC considering all the work she and her superior had to do. Just because she wasn't a soldier didn't mean that her job with the B.S.A.A's science/medical division wasn't as demanding. At any point she could be deployed to battle an infection in another state or country, and there was always testing and paperwork to be done in an attempt to be ready for the next outbreak that would undoubtedly come.

And when things finally dulled down and she was sound asleep in her apartment, she got a phone call from her superior demanding that she return to HQ. Apparently, an advanced C-Virus case had just arrived and was in desperate need of medical attention. Nothing else was told to her over the phone, and the young doctor was left wondering just what she was going to find.

Pulling into her parking space at HQ, Riley took a moment to pull her shoulder length dark blond hair into a messy ponytail and sat back in her seat, staring at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. She looked like a train wreck with the dark circles under her green eyes and no makeup to cover them up. Grabbing her B.S.A.A badge from her purse, she stepped out of her jeep and made her way inside, showing her I.D when needed, and went straight to the elevator that would take her to the science/medical division in sub-level two.

Nearing the elevator, Riley heard someone arguing with Cynthia at her desk beside the elevator, demanding that he be allowed down there.

The doctor frowned and quickened her walk, her three inch heels clacking against the shined tile.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but you are not authorized to use the elevator," Cynthia repeated nervously, her dark cheeks flushed.

"I don't give a damn about authorization!" a deep voice boomed, one that Riley recognized. "That's my partner down there!"

"I understand…" she trailed off when the man snorted. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave, or I'm going to call security."

The arguing continued despite Cynthia's threat, and upon rounding the corning, Riley gaped. "Chris?

The Captain snapped his head up in her direction, and with one last glare at Cynthia, he hurried over to her and wrapped her in a tight bear hug that she eagerly returned before stepping back.

She and Chris Redfield had met when he brought Jill Valentine back from Africa to be treated, and she was one of the doctors assigned to help purge the virus from Jill's system and was probably the only one who genuinely cared about her well-being. The three had been close friends ever since.

The last time she saw Chris was in Edonia six months ago before he disappeared after losing his men. She'd heard that his friend and comrade, Piers Nivans had taken command of a new squad in order to search for him and bring him back. Both she, Jill, and his sister Claire had feared the worst.

"What the hell happened to you?" she demanded, her relief at finding him alive turning to anger. "Claire and Jill were worried sick about you and no one would tell us anything!"

"I wasn't taking the death of my men well and slipped into some form of post-traumatic stress induced amnesia. Piers found me in some dive bare in Edonia, then took me to China to get back in the fight," he explained hastily, then asked, "Are they all right?"

"Your fiancée and sister feared you were dead, Chris. Do you think they're all right?" The soldier sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. He looked tired, beat up, and pitiful, and her anger ebbed away slightly. "Why are you here and not with Jill or Claire? They'll want to know that you're alive and safe."

Chris walked over to the wall, bracing himself against it with a closed fist while his other stayed on his hip. To her, it looked like he was trying to keep from taking his anger out on someone physically. "Piers was infected with the C-Virus."

Riley stared at him and her heart fell to her stomach.

While she didn't know Piers too well and had only spoken a few hellos to him back in Edonia when she crossed paths with he and Chris, she was well aware that he was one hell of a soldier and honorable to a fault. Chris held him in high regards, and had once admitted to she and Jill that he thought that he would make for an excellent leader in the B.S.A.A. Chris Redfield didn't think that way about very many people, so Piers had to be good. To hear that he'd been infected…

"What happened?"

"He and I went to rescue Sherry Birkin and Jake Muller from an underwater base and were attack by a massive B.O.W. Long story short," he sighed. "I was grabbed by the creature while Piers' arm was crushed against a wall by some debris from the base falling apart. Then he…" he trailed of, gritting his teeth. "He tore his arm off and injected himself with a modified strain of the C-Virus so he could save my sorry ass. He developed a mutated right arm in place of his old one and his right side was mutated all to hell. After we killed the creature, Piers wanted me to leave him behind but I forced him to keep moving. He tried to shove me into the escape pod without him, but I wouldn't let go of his good arm and punched him. I don't think the punch did any serious damage, but it knocked him out long enough for me to drag him into the pod and get rescued."

Riley was at a loss for words, but as much as she hated to think it, letting Piers die a hero might have been far more merciful. As of yet, they didn't have a cure for the virus, let alone a modified version. And if the mutation was as bad as Chris made it sound, she feared the worst.

The hardened soldier startled her from her worries by violently punching the wall, putting a fist size impression in the drywall.

"I'm calling security," Cynthia announced, picking up her phone.

"No, it's all right, Cynthia," Riley assured the nervous secretary. "I've got this."

Reluctantly, the mocha skinned woman hung up the phone, watching the two closely just in case.

Following Chris to some chairs, they both took a seat. "That man's like my brother, Riley. Couldn't you just damn authorization and let me make sure he's not being treated like a science experiment."

Chris didn't have a whole lot of trust invested with the science/medical division, and for good reason. There were a handful of good and honest doctors with the B.S.A.A – like Riley – but a majority were willing to do whatever it took to get cures, even at the expense of the victims sometimes. Unfortunately, her boss was the kind of man who wanted to get results at any cost. He often got his results and cures, but the patients didn't always survive.

"I really wish I could, but it isn't possible," she explained apologetically. "It's for everyone's safety."

Her friend shook his head, wholly unhappy with her answer. "He's still my comrade and friend, Riley. He didn't lose what made him who he was like the J'avo did. He's still Piers Nivans."

She chewed on her lower lip before she said, "Look, I was just called in to help my boss with an advanced C-Virus case, which I'm guessing is your partner. I'll do whatever I can for him, Chris, and I'll keep you informed on his status, I promise." She didn't know what exactly she could do for Piers, but she'd do whatever was in her power and then some.

Nodding, lips curling up in the slightest trace of a smile, he gave her small hand a tight squeeze. "Thank you, Riley."

Her phone beeping ruined the moment and she sighed, reading the irritated text message from her boss. Giving her friend a pat on the shoulder, she rose from the chair, straightened her brown blouse and black pencil skirt, and went to the elevator.

"What about Captain Redfield?" Cynthia asked quietly, glancing over at him.

She sighed. "Just leave him be. He won't cause any trouble."

"If you say so," the secretary mumbled, returning to her work.

Riley put in the key code then stepped inside the elevator and slipped on her lab coat while it took her to sub-level two. The doors opened and she stepped out into the white hallway, handing her badge to one of the security officers.

"So much for beauty sleep, huh, princess?" one of the guards asked on a chuckle.

Ignoring him, she took back her badge and attached it to her lab coat before proceeding to the quarantine area where all new patients were placed.

Nicknames such as princess were things she'd grown accustomed to, along with sweetie, pumpkin, and other kid nicknames given that she was twenty-eight, making her the youngest doctor of her position. Most people wouldn't even be considered for her particular job until they were in their thirties or forties, but she'd held her current position as one of the B.S.A.A's top virologist since she was only twenty-four.

All her life, she'd been called gifted and a protégée, graduating from high school when she was fifteen and going into the medical field. What should have taken years to complete took less than half the time for her and she was sought out by the B.S.A.A the moment she finished her residency. She was very smart, she was gifted, but she wouldn't go so far as saying it all had helped her in every aspect of her life.

Making friends was difficult growing up, and most of the people she worked with were far older than she was. Her high intelligence led her to saving a lot of people and aiding in discovering cures for viruses, but it had taken quite a toll on her social life, though she did have a few friends in the work place, and she had Chris, Jill, and Claire.

And so she ignored the jabs made at her age and equally young looks. She had a job to do and she wasn't going to let a few assholes bring her down by picking on her.

Punching in the key code when she reached quarantine, she let the decontamination system run its course, and when she stepped out she was met by her boss, Dr. Ethan Merrick.

A man in his late forties with greying brown hair and grey eyes, he was the top virologist in the United States and had been with the B.S.A.A once the science/medical division was created shortly after the organization expanded. And as far as she was concerned, he'd been born with an extra brain in place of his heart. He was cold when it came to his patients, hardly taking the time to learn their names, focused only on his theories, data, and getting results. His work, no matter how cold he was, often got them results that led to vaccines and cures that helped stop the spread of viruses. In the end, he saved a lot of people.

As well and good as that was, though, Riley took the time to learn the names of her patients and get to know them. If she were in their place she sure as hell would want to be treated like a human and not as a science project.

"You certainly took your time, didn't you, Conway?" Merrick scolded, escorting her to the room their patient was in.

"I ran into Captain Redfield," she explained. "He said his partner, Piers Nivans, was infected by an advanced C-Virus strain. Is he our patient?"

"He is," Merrick confirmed, handing her some blood work results that were on his IPad. "And to say the strain is advanced is quite an understatement. It's far more advanced than the strain that created the J'avo and undead. The C-Virus has mutated a majority of his right side, as well as created a new arm, if you could call the new appendage an arm, and, well, I won't waste my breath. It's all in the file."

She scowled at him but turned her focus to the IPad he'd handed her, selecting a video file to see how the virus was reacting. More often than not, he opted to "not waste his breath speaking with her". He acknowledged her intelligence, but didn't like her much, if at all.

The results made her step falter a bit and she jogged to catch up with him again. The C-Virus was binding with his cells. In all other cases, the C-Virus destroyed and took over the host's cells, leaving very little of what made the host who they were behind. But this… Piers' cells were relatively intact, so to speak, the C-Virus was merely binding to them, joining with them.

"The same thing occurred with Derek Simmons," Merrick informed her after she caught up. "A virologist with the Chinese B.S.A.A forwarded me the results from Simmons and they are virtually identical to our patient. Ours doesn't appear to be able to switch back from human to creature and vice versa like Simmons, however, though his new squid-like appendage has the capability to fire bio-electric energy. A useful form of defense, really."

"Chris said he hadn't lost his humanity like the J'avo did," Riley commented, looking up from the IPad.

Merrick nodded. "Yes, I was informed of this as well, and apparently the same occurred with Simmons. What the C-Virus has done to our patient… it's remarkable."

"Piers Nivans."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Our patient," she clarified, looking up at him. "His name is Piers Nivans."

The older doctor rolled his eyes at her and didn't reply, and she didn't demand one. There was no point.

At last, they reached the two-way mirror of the room Piers was being kept in, and she was suddenly glad Chris wasn't able to come down with her. The young soldier looked like hell and then some. His uniform had since been removed, replaced with white pants that reminded her of scrubs, allowing her to see just how hurt he was.

What had replaced his right arm was grotesque and squid-like, pulsating with energy, the tendons and muscles on his side down to his hip were exposed, and the right side of his neck and face looked equally bad. The veins were almost black beneath his skin and the flesh around his right eye looked almost charred and the eye itself probably wasn't much better. were in his good arm and he was hooked up to various machines. His heart rate was abnormally high, breathing labored, but he looked sound asleep.

"He's drugged?" Riley asked.

"Yes," her boss replied. "According to one of our doctors who escorted he and Redfield back to the States, our patient came to shortly into the flight and was apparently furious that Redfield hadn't left him behind to die. The doctor had little choice but to tranquilize him so that he wouldn't unknowingly damage the plane."

The young woman stared at him in disbelief. "Tranquilize? As in what you would use for an animal? Why the hell would he –"

"It was necessary, Dr. Conway," interrupted Merrick sternly. "Besides, given his state there was little to suggest he'd be willing to take something to calm his nerves. I informed the doctor who would be traveling with them to carry a tranquilizer gun just in case."

"You shouldn't have let him use a tranq. God knows what that could have done to him," she argued.

"As if anything could be worse than this."

It was obvious that they weren't going to agree so she let the conversation drop, though she wanted nothing more than to slap him. "What do you need me to do?"

"I'm assigning you to be his primary doctor. You're likeable amongst patients, and I want you to ensure that he cooperates with us."

She snorted. "You make it sound as though he's a prisoner."

At that, the older doctor glared at her, and snapped tightly, "Make no mistake, Conway, I care about my patients, I merely choose to aid them differently than you do. Were I not obligated to work with our other patient in creating a cure for the C-Virus, I would be seeing to the soldier."

"You mean you found a way to cure it?"

"Yes. A young man by the name of Jake Muller has antibodies to the C-Virus. Given time and human trials, we will be able to distribute a cure to the world, hence why I am putting you in charge of Nivans," he explained. "While I deal with creating a cure, I want you to run tests on him and keep him calm. Besides, I recall seeing you chatting with him in Edonia. A friendly face certainly couldn't do any harm."

She wouldn't go as far as saying that she and Piers chatted, but they'd been friendly enough with each other whenever she crossed paths with him and Chris.

Looking at his watch, Merrick started walking off, snatching his IPad from her. "I've had all the items from your office placed in the observation office next door to his room. That office will be yours for the time being. Feel free to treat the patient as you see fit, but I suggest your hurry and do whatever you think should be done. The C-Virus isn't spreading as quickly as it has in other cases, but it is still spreading." With that, he left her alone in the hallway with the nurses and security officers.

Riley sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**A/N: **_**I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to have Piers lose his arm permanently, or somehow get back a new one, or something. **_


	2. Chapter 2

Everything hurt, especially Piers' right arm and his head. It felt as though someone had run over his arm with a tank then smashed his skull into it for kicks. To top it all off, he was freezing.

Attempting to pull himself out of the fog in his head, the soldier searched his memory for any reason why he would be feeling the way he did, and what he remembered twisted his stomach into knots, his temper rising.

The oversized B.O.W in the underwater base, his arm being crushed and ripping it off, the C-Virus burning its way through his veins like white hot blades… Christ, he'd wanted so bad to die once they found the escape pods, wanted so bad to avoid turning into more of a monster than he already was. His Captain and best friend would be safe, and so he could die knowing he'd done good.

But Chris wouldn't have it.

Piers had tried to yank his good arm from his friend's grasp, but Chris was far strong than he was, and the last thing he saw for a while was his Captain's fist coming at his face. And then he woke up on a plane heading back to the States, confused and pissed that he hadn't been left behind, and his temper flaring had caused bio-energy sparks to emerge from his badly mutated arm. A sharp prick in the back of his neck followed and he fell into darkness yet again.

But now where the hell was he?

He opened his eyes a crack, his right eye throbbing as he did, and found himself staring up at a bright light surrounded by a white ceiling.

Soft clacking against the floor drew his attention and he glanced to the left, keeping his eyes only cracked open, and found the blurry, petite form of a woman approaching, a syringe in hand filled with a dark blue – or was it purple? – liquid.

Paying close attention to what she was doing, she didn't notice that he was awake and reached for the I.V in his arm to inject the liquid.

Panicking and fearing he was in the hands of whoever was now running Neo-Umbrella, he lashed out.

Piers sat up and grabbed the woman's wrist in a tight, painful grip, twisting and forcing a surprised and pained yelp from her as she dropped the syringe.

The syringe forgotten, she twisted her body so that her wrist wouldn't break and green eyes met hazel. "It's okay, Piers, your safe," she assured him, voice tinted with pain. "Do you remember me? We met in Edonia."

Edonia…

He raked through the faces of those he met in Edonia, and as his vision cleared and he finally got a good look at the young woman, he remembered. Young features, fair skin, dark blond hair in a messy ponytail, dark green eyes, and that soft, warm voice…

"Riley Conway?" he asked, voice raspy and hoarse, his throat painfully dry.

She was a hard woman to forget.

Back when he first met her six months ago in Edonia, he was confused as hell as to why someone that young and beautiful woman was in a war-zone and didn't believe Chris right away when he told him that she was one of the top virologists in the B.S.A.A in America and the friend he'd told him about from time to time, nor did he believe that she was twenty-eight, making her two years older. She looked much younger.

While her looks attracted Piers, her skills impressed him. She was good at what she did and from what he heard and what Chris said she genuinely cared about the people under her care and had taken care of Chris's fiancée Jill back when they returned from Africa. If she thought she could help, she tried to. Despite the fact that nothing could be done for the infect soldiers, she tried her best to save them and actually attempted to be a friend to them. For that, she had Piers' respect.

She nodded with a small, friendly smile, and said, "Yeah, it's me. You're at HQ receiving medical treatment. I'm attempting to slow the rate of the C-Virus in your system, but, uh, I'm going to need my hand back."

He looked to her wrist and frowned when he noticed her hand darkening with the loss of circulation, the veins bulging beneath the skin. Suddenly feeling bad for jumping to conclusions and for hurting her when she was one of the good guys, he let go and fell back on the bed.

Riley flexed her fingers and rubbed her sore wrist before walking over to a sink at the corner of the room. Retrieving a cup, she filled it with water and returned to his side, picking up a remote to slowly alter the bed so that he was sitting up.

The action, no matter how helpful she was trying to be, was uncomfortable to say the least, but at least now he didn't feel like he had such pressure on his chest anymore. He half wanted to look at his mutated arm to see if it was as bad as he remembered or worse, but he didn't dare look at it yet.

"Here," she said, offering him the cup of water. "Drink it slowly."

The young man did as she advised for a moment, sipping the water to sooth the rough ache in his throat, but then realized how thirsty he was and gulped down the rest quickly and handed it back to her. "Thanks."

"No problem," she replied and set the cup on the counter. Bending, she picked up the syringe from the floor and tossed it in the garbage. She refilled a new syringe with the purple liquid and walked back over. "This is what I used to slow the rate of infection with average C-Virus victims, and I've been administering doses to you since I arrived this morning. I'm afraid it's the best I can do until a cure is made. This is going to burn like hell," she warned, not even attempting to sugar coat it.

He appreciated that and nodded for her to go ahead, biting his tongue to keep from telling her not to bother treating him when he was a lost cause.

She slipped the needle into the I.V and injected the liquid, which he watched flow through the tube and into his good arm. And it most definitely did burn.

"Ah, Christ!" he hissed through his teeth, clenching his fist. "You weren't kidding."

"It'll pass in a moment, I promise," she assured him apologetically, her hand on his good shoulder and her thumb massaging comforting circles into the skin while she watched his vitals on the monitor, lips silently moving as she counted.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he clenched his jaw, waiting out the burning sensation surging through his veins. Just as she promised, it slowly dulled into an uncomfortable throb. His heart rate slowed to a more normal rate, and he finally opened his eyes again to look at Riley.

She'd stopped counting and reached over to write something on a note pad, her left hand still on his shoulder. "Anything feel abnormal?"

He snorted and asked bitterly, "Aside from the obvious?"

Riley cringed and glanced at him. "Sorry, poor choice of words."

"S'okay. But to answer your question, I feel like I got run over by a tank."

"Considering what you've been through, I'd say that's completely understandable," she commented. "I have you hooked up to a morphine drip for the pain. I didn't want to overdo it, but I'll up the dose. No need for you to be in unnecessary pain," she added, removing her hand from his shoulder and throwing the syringe away. She then immediately adjusted the morphine drip so that he would receive a heavier flow of morphine before sitting down in a chair next to the bed to write on the notepad intently, pausing every few seconds to erase something and rewrite it.

Not wanting to bother her with whatever she was doing, Piers finally looked at his mutated arm and felt as low as he did in the underground base. This _thing _attached to his shoulder wasn't his arm. This thing was sick, twisted, and stood for everything he fought to eradicate from the planet, and that was only part of the visible mutation. Looking at his reflection in the two-way mirror to his right, he saw how shitty the right side of his face looked. The blackened veins, the charred and swollen flesh around his eye that had seen better days… this sure wasn't how he wanted to go about living. And then there were the mutations undoubtedly taking place inside his body.

"Chris told me what you did," Riley said softly, and he looked at her to find her watching him sadly. "For what it's worth, what you did was incredibly brave. I doubt many others would have done the same."

It was nice to hear that from her, but it didn't perk up his mood. "Chris should have left me there," he grumbled miserably. "Been better off dead than like this."

"Maybe," she admitted, and he frowned, that not having been what he expected to hear. "But Chris wasn't willing to lose another friend, so as selfish as it was, he saved your ass and left you in my hands to put back together."

"And you think you can put me back together?" he questioned, not believing it.

"Yes, I'm working on a theory that could even..." she trailed off when he shook his head and looked away, grumbling the word "theory" under his breath.

The young doctor sighed and picked up her supplies and took a blood sample from his arm, mumbling that she wanted to see if the drug she'd injected him with had helped any and looked at some of the blood under a scope.

She didn't need his attitude, he knew that, but he couldn't exactly help it given how he looked and what he'd turned into. This was his own hell and thanks to Chris he had to live in it even longer, and he was sure that if Riley had her way he would live in it for much longer.

"Well, the good news is that the drug has significantly slowed the rate of the infection and the modified virus in your system hasn't adapted to it since I started giving it to you, so we won't have to worry about your mutation progressing for quite a while as long as I give you regular injections. The bad news is that those injections are going to have to come every four hours at the very least at this rate," she announced, eyes glued to the lenses of the scope.

He kind of wanted her to tell him the drug didn't do anything so she'd have an excuse to put him down now rather than later.

"I should have enough vials of the drug to last for four days, maybe five," she continued quietly, talking more to herself. "Could try to lower the dose and stretch the amount to six or seven days… I don't know, that may get me some extra time, but some of it has to be used for others infected, has to be shipped to other branches... Gotta tell Merrick to hurry up with his cure, and maybe…" she frowned when Piers chuckled, and she looked at him. "What?"

"Do you do that a lot? Talk to yourself?"

She blushed a bit and nodded. "Yeah, since I was a little kid. It helps me sort through ideas and theories," she explained, mildly embarrassed.

Despite the pain he was in, he thought it was rather cute.

Bracing her hands against the counter, she yawned quietly.

"When was the last time you slept?" Piers asked.

"Huh? Oh, um, let's see… I got here at seven this morning, it's four-something now…" she shrugged. "I think it's more along the lines of how much I've slept. With all the chaos going on in the world these past months, I've been running on empty. I didn't even get home until midnight and still had stuff to do before turning in."

"Just go home and get some sleep," Piers sighed, shifting to get more comfortable now that the morphine was kicking in more fully.

Riley shook her head, and replied, "No, I want to make sure you're all right. I could probably find a cot to set up in my new office down here, actually. It'll make treating you much easier if I'm in close proximity to you."

"Don't bother."

"Why not?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"You can't stand there and tell me you can fix _this_!" he snapped angrily, raising his mutated appendage with a sharp wince.

"And I can't tell you I can't, either!" she snapped right back. "God, you have a real shitty way of being thankful for your life."

"Who said I was thankful Chris saved me?" he grumbled, and her glare could have frozen a lake.

"Chris damn near had security called on him because he was concerned about you, Piers, and to him you're a brother. But now that I'm standing here, I really don't see why he's so concerned about someone as ungrateful as you," she hissed angrily. "If you would just accept that I can maybe fix this – "

He slammed his fist onto the bed and his mutated arm sparked slightly. "You can't fix this! There isn't some cure that can make this go away!"

"Jake Muller is here, he has the antibodies and can –"

"And can save someone with a treatable infection!" he interrupted again loudly. "Just fucking shoot me so I don't have to live like this!"

Riley said nothing for several seconds, but she leaned heavily against the counter. It was obvious that she was a very sensitive woman judging by how she was blinking rapidly and sniffling to keep from crying, and it made him feel like shit for acting the way he did, but he wasn't going to take it back.

"Fine. You want to die?" Finding a syringe, she filled it with air and set it on the bed next to him. "I'm not sure if that'll do the trick, given your mutation, but there you go, knock yourself out and try. If you want to die instead of fight and be a coward, you can take your own life because I refuse to kill my patients."

Piers picked up the syringe and stared at it for a moment, feeling some of his courage and dedication to the idea slip away. Then he noticed Riley gathering up her things. "Where are you going?" he asked, frowning and not really wanting to be alone despite his anger and self-pity.

"I haven't eaten since breakfast, so I'm going to the cafeteria for an early dinner and to review my findings" she replied tightly. "Just in case you decide not to take the easy way out, I'll bring you something to eat when I get back."

"Riley…" he started, but she was already out the door.

Now he knew what Chris meant when he mentioned that she had a way of making one feel lower than dirt.

Sighing, he stared at the syringe.

She was right, it was the easy way out, but it was an awfully tempting way out. Living the rest of his life as a monster was like a nightmare that he didn't want to think about, let alone consider. But she was confident that she might be able to fix what had happened to him – might, being the key word – and Chris had made sure he got medical attention.

Could he really make his friend and mentor go through the death of another comrade?

Could he throw Riley's offer to help him back in her face and shoot the air into his veins?

Piers swallowed and looked at himself in the mirror, hardly able to recognize himself. The mutation was more than superficial, and it sickened him to think about what may have been done to him on the inside. If he could go back to who he was, reach any semblance of normalcy, he would take it, he would, but he just didn't know if that was a possibility.

Piers had no clue what to do with the syringe in his hand and anxiously twirled it around between his fingers.

* * *

**A/N: _The way I figure, Piers would be pretty pissed about the notion of maybe having to live as mutated as he is. So his attitude and whatnot towards living could be expected._  
**


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you have any idea what you are asking, Conway?" Merrick asked in disbelief.

Shifting her phone to her other ear as she poked at her food with her fork, Riley replied, "I understand that it's asking for a lot, but… I really think it's the only way to save him. And you have all the information on the testing that was done on Jake back in China. Most of your work has been done for you! Maybe a cure has already been created and the formula is in those files!"

Merrick sighed on the other end of the phone. "That may be, but you're requesting that I have a cure made and ready for your patient in a week or less. There are the human trials, further testing, and whatnot to take into consideration. Even if I were to have some form of a cure created it will take weeks of testing before it can be released to the public and your patient."

He wasn't telling her anything she didn't know. The government was very insistent on how cures were manufactured and handled before they could be administered to others. If he worked tirelessly and constantly, getting as little sleep as possible, it was possible to have a cure in a week or less, but there was so much information in the files taken from China that held the information gathered from Jake's testing that it was perfectly plausible in her mind that he could come up with a cure before weeks end. The testing and human trials were a completely different story, however. That could take weeks or months at best. With Piers' mood and outlook on his condition so low, she really didn't think he had weeks or months. Of course, he could have already ended it…

That thought made her feel sick and she pushed her half eaten chicken parmesan away, no longer hungry.

Why did she leave him alone, let alone give him that damn syringe? Sure she was pissed at him for not being thankful for being alive, pissed that he didn't want her help, but she shouldn't have done that. There had to be a way to help him.

"What if we tested the cure on Piers the moment you think you've got something?" she asked suddenly.

"That would be going against protocol," Merrick replied.

"Not if he consents to being a part of the human trials," she pointed out. "Sir, if we administer the cure to Piers and it does in fact cure him or cause the virus to mutate into something more manageable as the antidote for the G-Virus did for Sherry Birkin it will prove that even the severely infected and mutated individuals can be treated and don't necessarily need to be shot on sight. My idea could save more lives sooner rather than later, and I believe there might even be a way for him to get his arm back!" Riley argued, flipping through her notebook to a series of theories and notes she'd written while Piers was unconscious. "I noticed some shrapnel was embedded in his right side that also crushed a mutated rib and so I took a scalpel and removed the shrapnel along with the destroyed rib. After it was removed along with the rib, the bone itself began to regrow rapidly, mending itself and creating new bone to make up for what was removed, and the skin healed as well and now that portion that was injured looks exactly like his normal skin, not the mutated mess. Hell, if I didn't have an x-ray taken I wouldn't have known that the rib had healed, to be completely honest with you, because the skin regrew and healed so fast. But the bone in the x-ray looks completely normal as well."

"How long did this take?" Merrick questioned, his interest peaked.

Relieved that she finally had her boss's full attention, she looked at her notes, and replied, "The mutated bone started regrowing normally the second I removed it and the shrapnel, and I took the x-ray ten minutes later. By that time the area I cut and the rib were completely regrown."

"Remarkable," the senior virologist murmured in awe. "What is your plan of action?"

"For now, I'm going to treat him with the drug I've been using to suppress further mutation." She paused to take a sip of her coffee. "What I was thinking is that we take him into surgery as soon as possible and remove the mutated limp and all the mutated tissue and bone, but before we administer the cure whether it is ready or not, we allow him to heal. If my theory is correct, his body should realize that the arm is missing and healing factor the C-Virus has created should cause the bones to regrow along with muscles, tendons, skin, the whole nine yards, and should heal normally. I think it's some sort of defense mechanism, seeing as Simmons also reverted back to his human state when his mutated body fell under intense trauma. This could work."

"In theory."

Riley sighed and nodded to herself. "In theory." Chewing on her lip nervously, she added, "I was hoping to schedule the operation for tomorrow, provided I can educate the surgeons on how to go about removing the limb and mutated tissue properly in such a short amount of time."

"Tomorrow?" Merrick repeated with a dry chuckle. "In a hurry, are you?"

"Actually, yes, I am," she replied, closing her notebook and sipping her coffee again. "Whether the arm regrows or not, I feel that just having the mutated limb, bones, and tissue removed will significantly boost his outlook on life. Right now, he's understandably more than a little miserable."

"And how do you plan to keep him from mutating again?"

Sitting back in her chair, she answered, "I'll increase the dosage of the C-Virus suppressant that I've been giving him, although that will limit the supply I'm privy to down to only three days at the most – the rest of it needs to go to China, Africa, Europe, and everywhere else with C-Virus outbreaks to buy the infected soldiers and civilians some more time while you work on the cure. By increasing the dosage, I should hopefully be able to keep Piers from mutating back. Once I run out, though..." She sighed. "I really need the cure as soon as possible, Sir."

The doctor on the other end of the phone began speaking to a fellow doctor and a nurse, and Riley sighed in relief when she heard him order them to speed up testing on the Jake's blood, get him more supplies, and inform his secretary to clear his schedule of all else for the week.

"You have my permission to follow through with whatever you see fit, Conway," Merrick replied. "And I want a detailed report daily in regards to your patient's healing capability and progress. If there's a way we could possibly harness the ability into a drug for our soldiers, if could save lives. Whatever testing must be done to possible find a way to create a new drug, do it. Everything is acceptable with this patient if it gets us results."

Something in his voice made the young woman frown even though she was glad that he was giving her the go ahead. A drug for soldiers to take that could heal their wounds without invasive surgery would be a miracle and a good thing, but it had been attempted before with Sherry's blood and it had failed. The vaccine Sherry had been given had mutated the virus rather than destroy it and given her the healing capability and thus it was limited to her alone, the G-Virus already being compatible with her. Scientists had tried to manufacture a healing drug from her blood, but nothing ever worked and Sherry had been put through hell for no reason.

Piers, on the other hand, already had the healing capability that came with the C-Virus binding to his cells. If they could figure out what was causing him to heal prior to administering a cure, theoretically they could create a drug for soldiers to take when injured.

That was a good thing, yes, but the tone in Merrick's voice concerned her. She'd do whatever testing she could, but she refused to do unnecessary harm to Piers and wouldn't hurt him just to see if he could heal. Blood and tissue samples, yes, mutilation and invasive testing, no.

"I'll do what I think is necessary, Sir," she assured him, indirectly telling him she wouldn't cause unnecessary trauma to Piers.

"I'm sure you will," he replied. There was some quiet speaking on the other end, and he added quickly, "I have work to do, Conway. Expect your cure in four days max."

Four days? That was better than what she asked for by far, and it meant Piers would only have to miss a few doses rather than a few days' worth of doses, considering she'd asked that a cure be made by weeks' end.

"Thank you, Sir, I…" she trailed off when he hung up on her. "Asshole," she mumbled, hanging up and setting her phone in her lab coat pocket before throwing away the remains of her food. The man was a genius and was going to have a cure ready in a matter of days, but he was still an asshole.

Idly, she wondered what exactly Piers would want to eat. Recalling him and Chris talking once in Edonia about how they missed cheeseburgers, steak, barbeque, and just about everything else that had made her mouth water just listening, she finally settled on a cheeseburger and fries from one of the fast food outlets in the large cafeteria,

Walking back down to sub-level two, she prayed she still had someone to give the food to.

It was the uncertainty about whether or not she'd find him alive or dead that kept her from calling Chris and informing him that Piers was awake and that she'd stopped the infection from progressing. She didn't want to tell her friend that the young soldier was awake and that she might have a way to save him, only to call him back and tell him he was dead.

Back when Jill was being treated, she'd expressed her hate of how the blond hair was a reminder of what she'd become and the things she'd done while under Wesker's control. She wasn't suicidal, just a little depressed until Riley was able to purge the virus from her. It was different for Piers. His mutation was so painfully obvious, and he believed so passionately in fighting bioterrorism. It was plausible that he saw himself as a threat and something to be used by bioterrorists, she didn't know. But if she could give him a reason to hope, then maybe he would hold out for a little longer.

Exiting the elevator, she noticed that security was as calm as could be and that the nurses wondering around the quarantined area didn't appear concerned.

Feeling a flicker of hope that he hadn't killed himself, Riley hurried to his room and damn near collapsed with relief when she saw him alive and sitting in bed, looking as bored as ever.

She walked away from the two-way mirror and stepped inside, smiling. "You didn't do it."

"Don't look so surprised," he commented, lips curling upward in a slight smile before he looked at the bag of food in her hand. "What's that?"

"Oh, it's for you," she replied, handing him the bag. "It's just a plain cheeseburger and fries, but I remembered hearing you and Chris talking about food you missed in Edonia so I thought you wouldn't mind that as opposed to something more gourmet."

"Nah, this is great. Thanks," Piers said sincerely, fumbling with the foiling around the burger, only having one good hand to use. After a few minutes of eating in silence while she sat and wrote in her notebook and double checked reports on his blood results and watched his vitals, he finally sat down his burger and sighed, "Hey, um, I'm sorry about earlier."

Looking up, she shifted a bit in her chair. "It's fine. I mean, I'd be pretty angry given the circumstances too," she said, then she smiled slightly and added, "But you were a bit of an ass."

The got a short chuckle out of the soldier, but he then winced, shifting his mutated limb uncomfortably. Sighing, he said, "I've never been a coward, not once. I'm not going to start being one now. But… I've seen firsthand what the C-Virus can do and I've fought the monsters its created. Turning into one of them… it's a nightmare. Now, you've done a lot for B.S.A.A soldiers when they clearly didn't have a chance at surviving the infection. That alone has earned you my respect, and Chris trusted you with his fiancée, so I trust you. But forgive me for not believing that you can actually fix this."

Riley stared at him for a moment, incredibly touched that he was trusted and respected her, but she more than anything wanted him to believe that she could undo what had happened to him either fully or to some degree.

"What if I told you that I could not only cure you, but get you your arm back?" she questioned slowly.

Raising his wide eyes to her, he asked, "… How could you do that?"

Riley walked around the bed to his right side, and explained, "Sometime after you were brought in, I noticed that some shrapnel had become lodged in your right side that had crushed one of your mutated ribs. I was able to remove it but also had to cut away some mutated tissue and remove the destroyed rib. In a matter of seconds both the bone and damaged tissue started regrowing and healing itself, and in a moment or two, the skin looked as normal as your unmutated skin – see?"

Piers looked at the spot she indicated on his mutated side, and his jaw slackened. In the midst of the dark, mutated flesh was a patch of unmarred skin.

"And the rib? What about that?" he asked curiously, hope lacing his words.

"That's regrown back to normal, too" she replied, taking an x-ray off the table to show it to him, holding it up the light. "This is ten minutes after I removed the damaged rib. Your body not only healed the wound, but created a whole new _human_ rib."

The young man stared at the unmarred skin, to the x-ray, then to her. "How the hell is that possible? I've seen what the C-Virus does – it deforms you, it doesn't heal you!"

"The medical jargon is a bit complicated, but simply put, think of it as a defense mechanism," she explained as simply as she could. "The portion of your body that was harmed after I removed the shrapnel and rib reacted and mutated back to its original human state, the virus somehow sensing that it was in danger or something. If I were to cut some of your unmutated flesh, I'm fairly certain that it would mutate into something grotesque. I have reports on Derek Simmons, and apparently when his mutated body came under severe trauma, he shifted back to a human form, and vice versa. The average C-Virus also caused the J'avo to mutate further in response to trauma – this is merely a variant of it."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," he started, licking his chapped lips. "How exactly could you get me my arm back, though?"

Setting down the x-ray, she said, "The only way to go about it is through surgery. Surgeons would have to remove not only the mutated limb, but every piece of mutated bone and tissue without causing too much trauma to what hasn't mutated – we don't want what isn't already mutated to possibly mutate during the operation."

"When can we do it?" Piers asked eagerly, eyes brighter than they were when she went to get something to eat, and he started sitting up.

"Slow your roll," she advised, gently pressing her hand into his abnormally hot chest to keep him from getting out of the bed. "I spoke with my boss, Dr. Merrick, a little while ago and he's going to work day and night to have a cure made within four days at most. But technically we would not be allowed to give it to you until it's gone through human trials and gets approved for distribution. Nine times out of ten, our cures and vaccines and whatnot are a success, but there's always the chance that they won't be, and this is no different. The only way around it is if you give us consent to test the cure on you once it's created, thus starting the human trials. That should appease the powers, hopefully."

He nodded before she finished the last sentence. "All right, I'll do it."

"There's a chance that it could kill your or make it worse –"

"I don't care," he interrupted. "If it kills me, at least I don't have to live like a monster and you'll know the cure isn't ready. But if it works…" he opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing and going silent.

She couldn't imagine what was going through his mind right now.

"Okay, I'll let Merrick know that we have your consent. All you'll have to do is sign a waiver."

He nodded mutely.

"Look, um, there's something else. You should know that in order to prevent your mutation from returning to what it was, I'm going to have to up the dosage of the suppressant I've been giving you. From what I can tell, it won't alter the healing process, but it should help prevent you from mutating again for a while."

"I feel a 'but' coming," he sighed.

"But," she confirmed reluctantly, "By upping the dosage I'll only have enough to last for roughly three days at most, and Merrick predicts he'll have the cure ready in four days. That puts you at risk for not only mutating back, but to mutate even further once the suppressant runs out. I'd take more from our reserved stock, but it's reserved for a reason – for China, Africa, Europe, parts of the U.S where the C-Virus has popped up, and other places."

Piers raked his fingers through his hair, shaking his head slightly at the news. "Guess I'll have to keep my fingers crossed that all goes well, huh?"

"It will," she promised, not about to let him lose the shred of hope she'd given him. "If Merrick says he can have the cure ready in four days, he'll have it ready in four days or sooner, and the moment I hear that it's ready, I'll have it in my hands."

Swallowing thickly, he nodded, but said, "You know, you shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

She smiled cockily at him and folded her arms over her chest. "Who says I can't keep it?"

He looked at her for a moment, then shook his head with a slight chuckle, and commented, "You sure don't lack confidence, I'll give you that."

"Yeah, well, when I make promises, I fully intend on keeping them."

"In that case, could you make me another promise?" he asked after a moment.

Wary, she replied, "That depends on what you want me to promise you."

Meeting her green eyes with his hazel ones, he said, "If the operation doesn't go right, if I mutate further, or if by weeks' end there's no cure or the cure doesn't work and you're at a loss about what else to do… please, just end this, okay? I'm not trying to take the coward's way out, but I refuse to live like this if there's nothing anyone can do. Can you do that for me? All you'll have to do is bring me a gun or something – you won't have to do it."

Biting her lip, she looked away. Death wasn't an option for him in her opinion, and she was confident that she could do something to help him. She'd let too many people down who were infected with the C-Virus, but this was different. She knew Piers, had met him here and there before in Edonia before he was infected. While she wouldn't say they were necessarily friends, having not spoken to each other that much, she was close enough to him to want to work her ass off to help him. But she couldn't torture him by keeping him alive as a monster – essentially a B.O.W – if there ended up being nothing she could do to help. Nothing was right about that, and if she were in his shoes, she wouldn't want to suffer like that if she had no chance to return to something normal.

She hated it, but she nodded slowly.

"Say it," Piers instructed tightly.

With a lump in her throat, she reluctantly replied, "I promise."

* * *

_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write! Keep the reviews coming!  
**_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: _I don't know why, but every time I typed "B.O.W's" without the apostrophe, Fanfiction would erase the word completely, no matter how many times I tried to fix it. So even though there isn't necessarily supposed to be an apostrophe in "B.O.W's", it was the only way I could write it to avoid it being erased. Don't ask me why it kept being erased, I have no clue._**

* * *

A little after nine in the morning and running on an insanely high amount of coffee, Riley tucked her hair behind her ears and busily worked on straightening up her notes and editing her report.

The suppressant had to be administered to Piers every four hours and, because she didn't trust the nurses to do it and wanted to keep track of his vitals and the virus, she'd sleep ever three hours, wake up an hour before he needed the drug to do some more work and work on the briefing and notes she would present to the surgeons, administer the drug when it was time, then go to sleep so she could repeat it all again. By the time it was four in the morning, she decided she'd slept enough and threw herself into her work after making a trip to the restroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, relieved that her bag with her overnight supplies had been brought from her office upstairs to the new one in sub-level two. All she needed now was for someone to stop at her apartment to get her a change of clothes.

Looking at the clock, she sighed.

In roughly twenty minutes she would be briefing the surgeons on how to proceed with the operation, what to do and what to avoid doing, and give them more information about the C-Virus that had infected Piers. Of course, she would be supervising the operation personally to make sure it was done correctly, and the operation wasn't scheduled until one o'clock –immediately following Piers' next dose – but she had to be certain that the surgeons knew what to expect prior to going into it.

She stared at the notes she'd prepared to pass out to each of the surgeons, the reports, and everything else, and couldn't think of anything else that needed done, so she packed it all up in their respective folders and left her office to get an apple or a peach or something from the cafeteria to eat before the meeting as well as to calm her nerves.

Upon exiting the elevator at the ground level, her cell phone beeped, informing her of missed calls and voice-mails, so she pulled it from her pocket to check it – eight missed calls from Chris, four from Jill, three from Claire, and a handful of voicemails from each. The calls started from early yesterday evening and continued through the night, but she didn't get a signal down in sub-level two and thus didn't get the notifications until she came back to the surface where she had full bars.

In her haste to help Piers, do her research, and get ready to prep the surgeons, she'd completely forgotten to call Chris and update him on his friend's condition.

Reaching the cafeteria, she down her folders and promptly dialed the soldier's number.

After a few rings, a _feminine _voice answered tightly, "About time you called back!"

She flinched from the scolding tone of Chris' sister. "I am so sorry. I got caught up and just now got my messages – no signal, you know? What are you doing with Chris' phone? I thought you were in New York doing some work with Terra Save? I heard there were problems there with the C-Virus."

"There were, but it was just a protest. A senator wanted to bomb each town in the U.S that's showed signs of infection, and we found out that the fine print includes not evacuating the residents as a 'precaution'. Chris called me the moment he got home so I hopped on the first flight to D.C. I'm staying with him and Jill for a week to catch up. I'd let you talk to him, but he's dead to the world and I don't want to wake him up," she explained with a heavy sigh, her temper cooling a bit. "Chris told Jill and me about what happened to his partner. How is he?"

Just as Riley was only acquainted with Piers through a few run-ins, so was Claire, and she was just as concerned. Though in all honesty, Claire probably knew him better than Riley did.

Over the next few minutes, Riley explained everything to Claire so that she could relay the information back to her brother when he woke up. The other Redfield understood the science behind it all a bit better than Chris, which made explaining what was going on and what she was doing much easier. Still, she had to simplify quite a few things so that they made sense when Claire expressed her confusion.

"God… do you really think that will work?" Claire asked in amazement. "I mean, I know from talking to Sherry that the viruses can generate healing capabilities, and I've heard about the J'avo, but to the extent of creating human bone and tissue just by removing what was mutated?"

"I would have thought it was farfetched as well if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, but the evidence is there to support my theory," she insisted, spinning her apple on the table. "The same thing occurred to Simmons when his body fell under trauma – there's no reason to expect that this won't work."

"Does Piers expect it to work?"

Riley hesitated and worried her lower lip, something she did when she was nervous or anxious. "I honestly don't know. He's adamant about not living as mutated as he is, and unless I can get the cure into him he's going to be at constant risk of mutating whether his arm regrows or not. If I can't fix this…" she trailed off sadly, unable to get herself to say it. "Strangers are one thing – it sucks and it's terrible, but I can eventually move on. But I know Piers, Claire. I've lost far too many to the C-Virus; I refuse to lose him to it."

"You'll get him through this, Riley. If you say the arm will regrow and the mutated bone and tissue will come back normally once removed, it will," her friend assured her. "But just to be safe, I wouldn't let your boss go anywhere near Piers, let alone give him the cure. You should do it."

"Don't start, Claire," the young virologist sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I don't trust him," she said anyways.

"You've met him how many times through Terra Save? Twice?"

Claire snorted. "Twice was enough. The guy's an ass and isn't afraid to show it. He'd probably experiment on his own mother if he thought he could get a cure or a vaccine for something. The only reason Terra Save supports the B.S.A.A employing him is because of how many people his work has saved. If we were judging him by his methods alone, we wouldn't be saying nice things about him."

"All of his patients who volunteer for his experiments are informed of the risks and what will take place in his experiments," Riley reminded her irritably. "They know that they could be in for a lot of pain and possibly die, but a lot of them give consent anyways since they're already infected with something and don't have anything left to lose."

"A snake is still a snake no matter how much it warns the mouse," Claire mumbled, then she asked in concern, "Hey, that waver you had Piers sign so he could take the cure when it's ready; did you read it and make sure Merrick didn't add anything to it?"

"Yes, I read the form prior to Piers signing it and after before giving it to Merrick," she replied. Though she defended Merrick, she couldn't say she trusted him fully either and always made sure there wasn't any fine print in the wavers he gave to his patients. "All it allows is the administration of the cure, and that's it. If it works, Piers is permitted to be released. If not, he has to sign another waver to stay in the trials if he wants to. I assure you, I'm not letting Piers be made into an experiment."

"I know, I know, just making sure," she sighed. "He's lucky he has you for his doctor. No one else would care this much."

Shrugging, she said, "He's my patient and Chris' friend. Of course, I care."

"Oh, so you caring so much about getting him better has nothing to do with your little crush and thinking he's hot?" Claire teased, and Riley's cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment.

When she joined Chris, Jill, and Claire for dinner a little over two years back, Chris told them about the newest member of Alpha Team – Piers Nivans. While he only went into mission details with Jill, he readily told them all about his team and was quite impressed with the newest member. According to Chris, Piers had joined the Army when he was eighteen prior to being discharged in order to join the B.S.A.A – given the skills needed to be in the B.S.A.A, if the organization approved of someone in the military who had applied, that person was immediately discharged from the military with no hard feelings.

Claire had encouraged both her brother and Jill to talk about what went on in their life to keep from bottling it all up and falling into a dark hole, and Riley had agreed with her fully, so whenever they went out for dinner together they all shared stories of what went on in the workplace. They were probably the only ones with whom they could share the details of it all with. So few outside the B.S.A.A, the D.S.O, and Terra Save could understand what they dealt with each and every day and the toll it took on their lives.

All through dinner, Chris told them stories about his recent missions and some of the more entertaining aspects that had taken place during their downtime. Riley couldn't help but be impressed by what he had to say about Piers, and paid particularly close attention to the eldest Redfield sibling whenever he was brought up in conversations, learning that despite being the rookie of the team, Piers had quickly been dubbed the moral compass of the team and was the best marksman Chris had ever come across.

In no time at all, Piers had moved up the ranks and had become Chris' second in command only a few months after being assigned to Alpha Team.

Claire and Jill met him while Riley was out of the country battling a small T-Virus outbreak in South America and confirmed that Chris wasn't exaggerating about him being a dedicated soldier and wasted no time in telling her that he was very cute, making the young woman more than a little upset that she hadn't been around to meet him.

It wasn't until she was dispatched to Edonia that she did meet him, and "cute" didn't begin to cover how handsome she thought he was, and she was quick to tell that to Claire upon speaking to her after returning to the States. With how much she'd talked about him in that one phone conversation after getting back, she probably sounded like a little girl with a crush, and her friend picked on her about it every chance she got.

"That has absolutely nothing to do with it, and I don't have a crush on him. I'm not some teenager," she argued, acutely uncomfortable with the conversation, and more than a little irritated at the fact that what she just said wasn't entirely true.

She liked to think that she wasn't a vain woman and also liked to think that she could set her personal feelings – her crush, as Claire so eloquently put it – aside, but there was no denying that part of her determination that drove her to help Piers was based off her attraction to him.

"You don't have to be a teenager to have crushes," Claire pointed out with a smile in her voice.

"Claire, can you please just drop it, okay? I'm not in the mood," Riley sighed, not wanting to draw attention to herself because she was blushing like mad and needing to focus on the task at hand.

"All right, I'm sorry," she apologized with a slight laugh. "When's the briefing with the surgeons?"

Looking at the clock on the wall, she replied, "About eight minutes from now. I should probably get going. Tell Chris I'm sorry for not calling, okay? Oh, and could you swing by my place and bring me a change of clothes? Jill has my spare key."

"Sure, don't worry about it, and I'll tell Chris. He should understand," she assured her. "Good luck with the operation, and tell Piers that Jill and I say to hang in there."

"I'll tell him."

Giving their goodbyes, they hung up and Riley quickly ate her apple whilst making her way up to the second floor for the briefing with the surgeons.

* * *

As exhausted as he was, Piers didn't sleep for more than an hour at a time during the night, his nerves and the pain keeping him awake. Everything that could go wrong ran through his mind and pushed back every ounce of assurance Riley had given him.

What she told him didn't seem possible. After what he'd seen happen to those who were infected, the notion that the C-Virus could actually cause his lost arm to regrow once the mutated limb was removed in response to trauma seemed highly unlikely and impossible.

"Like J'avo sprouting multiple eyes and limbs is any less impossible," he grumbled to himself, swirling around the water in his cup.

If he hadn't seen the J'avo generate multiple eyes and mutated limbs, wings, and what not in response to trauma he sure wouldn't believe it despite being well aware of what the viruses could do.

He remembered the first time he saw a B.O.W while on a mission in Iraq and how he'd stood frozen for a handful of seconds, uncertain if what he was seeing was real. No amount of basic training and fighting in the Army could have prepared him for coming face to face with a Licker, let alone how he was supposed to handle seventeen.

That mission was still something he didn't like to think about, because on the mission, eight soldiers had been dispatched to check out a rumored underground complex out in the middle of the desert, and only Piers and two others came back alive after barely managing to clear the complex of Lickers. What made it all worse was that another rumor Command heard hinted that there were B.O.W's being created in that complex, but they dismissed those claims as that portion didn't come from a credible source, hence why Piers and his buddies had been sent in rather than B.S.A.A soldiers.

After fighting the B.O.W's , losing fellow soldiers, and after seeing what was on the data he acquired and how its contents could fatally harm countless others, he wasted no time in requesting to join the B.S.A.A, aware that if he was accepted he would be discharged from the Army.

The B.S.A.A reviewed his service record and readily accepted him into the organization, thus forcing the Army to discharge him. That didn't go over so well with his father when he gave him the news.

His mother had been proud, just as she had been when she been when he enlisted in the Army, but his father had been furious. As a Marine, his father had been irritated that Piers chose to join the Army instead, and to hear that he opted to be discharged from the Army to join the B.S.A.A, an organization his father thought was a waste of resources when the "real" military could be trained to handle B.O.W's … that pushed him over the edge. They didn't really talk much after that except for when Piers came down to visit his parents in Virginia for the holidays.

Despite his father's severe lack of enthusiasm, Piers eagerly put everything he had into the intense training the B.S.A.A required him to go through, and after completing that he was assigned to the S.O.U – Special Operations Unit – and placed under Chris' command in Alpha Team.

Chris was practically a legend in the B.S.A.A, and Piers had admired him as a soldier and leader from the very beginning. As they continued to work together, he gained a good friend and an older brother figure to whom he looked up to.

But even though they had a bond like brothers, he was still incredibly angry that Chris didn't leave him behind in that underwater base. Unless Riley could come through with his arm and a cure, he wasn't entirely sure he could forgive his best friend for saving him in his mutated state. As it was, he was unsure if she could come through.

She would try, he had no doubt about that, but he just wasn't sure she could do it. He'd give her the benefit of the doubt, though, if only because she'd managed to spark a flicker of hope in his chest and he liked her. The doctor was a good woman, very likeable, and she had a way of making her theories sound simple, such as her theory of his arm regrowing. The way she'd said it, she could have been talking about the weather. It was beyond impressive, even if it sounded farfetched. And she was incredibly compassionate, as demonstrated back in Edonia with the infected soldiers and civilians. For her, he'd hold out just a little bit longer.

Despite his grim situation, he couldn't help but wish that they'd met under different circumstances, maybe during that Independence Day party last year at a bar in D.C that his fallen squad – minus Finn, who hadn't been assigned to Alpha Team yet – and Chris had gone to where he met Jill and Claire. He could easily see himself having bought Riley a drink and talking to her for hours at that party, maybe even asking her out for a cup of coffee sometime or lunch. While he typically didn't go for serious relationships due to his demanding job, opting instead for flings that were more for the hell of it more than anything else with younger women who were also looking for a good time but nothing permanent, he would have made an exception for her. But unfortunately, she hadn't been there. Chris had asked Claire why she hadn't come, knowing that his little sister had invited her, and they'd learned that she'd left for South America a a few days earlier in response to a minor T-Virus outbreak.

That had been disappointing to hear, as Piers had been looking forward to meeting not only Chris' fiancée and his sister, but also the friend he mentioned from time to time. When he finally did meet her in Edonia, it was damn near impossible not to be attracted to her.

Yeah, he would have liked to have met her before all the chaos of Edonia and this mess with his C-Virus infection. He would have liked to have met her at that party.

As if sensing that he was thinking about her, Riley walked inside the room, dressed in blue scrubs with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. For a moment, he didn't understand why she was dressed the way she was, but then he looked at the clock and his heart started racing.

His operation was in ten minutes.

"You ready?" Riley asked, stepping over to his left side as a number of surgeons walked in with nurses, busing themselves in setting things up along with the anesthesiologist.

He swallowed, looking at everyone who was trying not to stare at him. "About as ready as I'll ever be, I guess. You're doing it in here?"

"Yeah," she replied, and moved to the counter to fill a syringe with the C-Virus suppressant. "Given the state of your infection, you have to stay in this room until you're cured. Count your blessings that you were placed in a room with an adjoining bathroom. Some of the quarantine rooms don't have one. You don't want to know what would have had to have been if that were the case," she added, smiling at him, albeit nervously as well.

It was an attempt to ease his nerves, and it worked a little bit until some nurse took it upon herself to put the bed back to its flat position, at which time his nerves came back in full force. When the nurse made to hook up some more I.V's, Riley ushered her out of the way so she could do it herself.

Taking great care to be as gentle as possible with the I.V's, she said, "We're going to put you under before I administer the suppressant, that way you won't have to feel the pain of it before the operation itself."

He nodded, paying more attention to the intimidating assembly of scalpels and other tools a nurse brought it, wishing she hadn't put it where he could so clearly see it.

Riley looked up when his heart rate on the monitor sped up and followed his line of sight to the tray of equipment. Scowling at the nurse who met her scowl with confusion, she moved to block it from his view and squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"I talked to Claire a while ago," she commented, attempting to get his mind on something else for at least a few seconds. "She and Jill say to hang in there, which I'm fairly certain is their way of saying that if you do anything stupid they'll kick your ass."

He snorted, lips tugging upward slightly. If he died, those two would probably find a way to bring him back so they could beat his ass.

"Dr. Conway, we're ready to begin," said the anesthesiologist, the surgeons and the nurses waiting patiently.

"All right," she said to the anesthesiologist with a nod before looking down at Piers, smiling reassuringly. "This is going to work, don't worry. I'm going to be here the entire time making sure it all goes perfectly."

"Who says I'm worried," he mumbled, unconsciously tightening his grip on her small hand when the other doctor put the mask over his mouth and nose, instructing him to breathe deep and count backwards from ten. Nodding and taking a deep breath of the gas coming through the mask, he started counting backward. "Ten… nine…" he paused, eyelids growing heavy, and took another deep breath. "Eight… seven…"

Six never came, and the last thing he saw before going under was Riley's reassuring smile.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_

**A/N: **_**The main thing I wanted to do with this chapter was cement the fact that Piers and Riley were attracted to each other before he was infected to avoid it seeming like they automatically became attracted to each other when she became his doctor after the infection. In short, they knew each other prior to Piers becoming infected with the C-Virus and already shared a mutual attraction to each other to some degree. I also wanted to give Piers some sort of background to explain why he went into the B.S.A.A.  
**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **_**Sorry for any spelling and grammatical errors. I read through the chapters a few times to make any corrections, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.**_

_**Also, I'm going to try to post two chapters a week at the least. There's always the chance that I'll post more than two, but I'm going to try to keep two chapters the bare minimum. **_

* * *

Hours after starting the operation, Riley stepped out of the room, the bloody garments she'd worn over her scrubs and the gloves having already been thrown away in the hazardous materials trash bin in the room. She leaned back against the wall and slid down it with an exhausted sigh, pulling her knees up to her chest to rest her head on them as a few tears slipped from her eyes. She really didn't care how pitiful she looked, she was dead tired and couldn't hold them back.

"Hey, Doc, how'd the operation go?" a deep and familiar voice asked from down the hall. When she sniffled, she heard his walk quicken and then felt a large hand on her shoulders as he knelt in front of her. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

Raising her head, she met the dark brown eyes of Dwayne Forest, the chief of security. He was a genuinely good guy who reminded her of her father and had worked with the B.S.A.A for years upon retiring from a long career in the Marine Corp, and he'd befriended and looked out for her the moment she arrived at the B.S.A.A. Why he was down in sub-level two, however, she didn't know. Typically he stayed upstairs.

When she'd yet to say anything, he gently shook her. "Did something go wrong with the operation?"

At that, she smiled and breathed out a shaky laugh, and said, "No, it went amazingly well."

She was almost in disbelief that it had gone as well as it had, though it had been touch and go here and there.

Once the surgeons began cutting away at the mutated tissue on Piers' face, it became clear that they would be racing against the clock. After an incision was made into the flesh, the skin started rapidly healing itself back to normal human tissue a few minutes later, complicating things and bringing the operation to a temporary halt while they figured out what to do and altering their game plan. The rapid healing left them a small window of only a few minutes to remove sections of tissue, muscle, tendons, and bone. One surgeon suggested they call off the surgery altogether in order to reassess the situation, but Riley refused to end it. Taking a few minutes to think, she came to the conclusion that they would save the mutated limb for last and focus all their efforts into removing all traces of mutation from his face, neck, and right side in sections of various sizes as quickly as possible. Despite their complaints, the surgeons followed her instructions.

When the mutated mess from one section was removed, they marked the area with a black marker so that when they went to work on the section next to it they wouldn't accidentally cut into the healing human flesh. It was tedious and tense, and more than once they'd had to take a step back to figure out where to work next, but that portion of the surgery was a success and the flesh started healing when each section was removed.

Then came the removal of the limb.

That was a bit more nerve racking and less precise.

For lack of a better word, the surgeons had practically hacked the limb off directly at the shoulder so they could hurry and remove the mutated flesh and what bones that had been mutated, including the entire right portion of his collarbone. Riley had a strong stomach, having observed more than a few surgeries, but the removal of the limb made her stomach churn wildly.

But despite the slight setback and how rushed the surgeons had felt, the surgery had been a complete success. To top it all off, when she was leaving the room she had seen the bones inside the wound where the limb had been steadily regrowing before her eyes. She hadn't known whether to smile or cry, and in the end she started crying, more relieved than she ever could have imagined.

To monitor his progress, she'd had the bed turned so that his right side could be seen through the two-way mirror, suspecting that she would have to leave the room sooner or later to speak with other doctors. The sight of a gaping wound rapidly healing and creating bone would likely freak out some of the nurses and security officers who passed by, but she didn't really care what they thought.

Her theory had thus far been proven correct.

Dwayne stared at her, watching her cry with a smile on her face, before shaking his head and laughing at her. "Christ, you had me thinking you'd killed him or something, Doc."

"How did you even know about him and the operation?" she asked, sniffling and wiping her eyes.

"Word travels fast," he replied. "A lot of people topside ranging from security to the damn janitors have heard something about Piers Nivans and his condition. Came down to see how things were going and make sure you didn't burn out stressing that pretty little brain of yours."

Riley groaned, rising to her feet. The last thing Piers needed were rumors going around. She was willing to bet that people were making it out to be a lot worse than it was, though it was pretty bad.

"Now that the mutated arm, flesh, and bone are removed I think I can finally rest for a little while," she sighed, stretching her arms over her head. "I'm still only going to be getting about three hours of sleep every four hours, but at least I don't have to stress over removing the mutations for now."

Walking to the two-way mirror, the security chief blanched and scratched the back of his neck. "No offense, Doc, but it looks like you took a hacksaw to the guy and drew spider webs on his side and half his face."

She stifled a chuckle at the expression on his face and joined him at the mirror. "We couldn't risk cutting into anything that wasn't mutated, so we outlined the mutated skin with a marker to avoid cutting what wasn't damaged, and we had to remove the mutations in sections so that – "

"I don't need to know the details, Doc," he interrupted. "Just tell me what's with the spider web designs and that unbandaged wound that I'm guessing was his arm."

"All right then," she started, skipping to the end. "The 'spider webs', as you call them, are remnants of the mutated tissue that we left intact so as not to do harm to the undamaged tissue. Once we treat him with the cure, either the thin lines of mutation will disappear completely or become nothing more than scars. As it is, they're roughly needle thin so they won't be too terribly noticeable once he's cured, provided the dark reddish purple color of the lines dissipate a bit . As for the wound where the mutated limb was, we left it uncovered so that a new human arm can regenerate. Strangely enough, the wound is hardly even bleeding so we don't have to worry about him bleeding out. His body's already creating new bones, muscles, and tissue to replace what was lost or removed. We're just keeping him under until the arm finishes regenerating to keep him from being in pain."

"How the hell is he going to regrow a new… you know what, never mind," he said, cutting himself off and raising his hands. "I don't want to know."

She smiled, rubbing her eyes tiredly. When it came to her work, he compared her to a mad scientist and only wanted the glazed over cliff notes so he could put rumors to rest or confirm them. With Piers, he seemed more curious than anything.

"Do you know him?"

"Who, the kid?" he asked, inclining his head towards Piers. When she nodded, he shook his head. "No, never met him. I just heard he was your new pet project and worked with Redfield in Alpha Team."

Sighing, she leaned back against the glass and said irritably, voice a little sharp, "He's not my pet project, Dwayne, he's my patient."

"Hey, now, don't get snippy with me," he scolded gently in a way a father would scold a child. "I was just using the term others around here are using. I meant nothing by it."

Letting her head thump back against the mirror, she mumbled an apology, knowing it was her exhaustion that had made her snap at him.

Dwayne placed his hand on her shoulder, and said, "You're dead on your feet, Doc. Go change and get some sleep."

"I would if I could," she sighed, yawning and patting his hand on her shoulder. "But I have to go update Dr. Merrick on Piers' status. He'll want to know that it was a success."

The security chief snorted in unmasked dislike for the head virologist. "I'm surprised he isn't down here with his eyes glued to the mirror. Bastard gets off on seeing people chopped up."

"Oh, for God's sake, not you, too," Riley groaned, walking away from him and down the hall. "I don't like the man either, but while he may not be the greatest specimen humanity has to offer, and his methods questionable, he has good intentions! He wants to save lives!"

First Claire and now Dwayne? She knew they both didn't trust or like the guy, but come on! Couldn't they just keep it to themselves for once, especially when she was quite obviously tired out of her mind and busy?

"The road to Hell is paved with the good intentions of people like Dr. Merrick!" he snapped, following close behind. "My men and I hear rumors about what he does to the patients who give consent. The rumors are sick and twisted, and I'm inclined to believe the rumors because it's all hushed, like no one wants Merrick to find out."

She rolled her eyes. "You can't believe everything you here."

"Then clear things up for me and tell me just what the fuck he does to his patients who supposedly give consent to be his experiments," he requested tightly.

Riley said nothing and her step faltered ever so slightly.

"You can't give me an answer because you've never actually sat in on any of his science experiments, have you?"

It was true, she hadn't, but not because she didn't want to. Whenever she requested to observe Merrick's experiments, he firmly turned her down and ordered her to stay clear of sub-level three to which she was denied access. In fact, once the patient signed the consent form she was forbidden to see the individuals. But she had seen the consent forms they'd signed upon requesting to see them when she became wary of Merrick a year ago. He'd handed her every single consent form that went into detail of what his experiments would entail and all had signatures. There was no reason for her to believe anything terrible was going on.

Tightly, she replied, "I don't need to sit in on his experiments. There's nothing bad going on."

"Then why the hell is he so damn secretive about goes on down there, and why does he have his own private security guarding sub-level three?" Dwayne demanded, grabbing her arm to bring her to a stop. "You can't be so naïve as to believe that –"

"Mr. Forest, is there a reason you are manhandling my scientist?"

Dwayne tensed immediately but promptly released Riley's arm upon seeing Merrick round the corner and call him out. "Just making sure she isn't being foolish, _Sir_," he explained, glaring daggers at him. He hated that Merrick demanded that people call him "sir".

Merrick chuckled dryly at him, stepping forward to flatten his palm against Riley's back and lead her back towards Piers' room. Over his shoulder, he said to the other man, "I suggest you get back to work, Forest. Wouldn't want it to get out that you're threatening young women and not doing your job, would we?"

Riley stared at Merrick.

Anyone who knew Dwayne would know that he'd never hurt a woman and always did his job to the best of his abilities, but Merrick's opinion held a lot of sway with the U.S B.S.A.A's Board of Representatives. The Board consisted of American's appointed to maintain the U.S branch, but also one U.N representative who had the most power. If the Board even thought that someone couldn't do their job right, that person was fired immediately. One whisper from Merrick and Dwayne could easily lose his job.

But before she could speak up in Dwayne's defense, the man being threatened spoke up.

"No, of course not, Sir," the man agreed through his teeth, knowing when to back down. "I'll be getting back to work. You take care, Riley."

She nodded and silently allowed Merrick to lead her back to Piers' room.

Despite Merrick's unconcealed dislike of her, he was always suddenly protective of her when others questioned her about his work and often hurried her out of the situation. He also made sure the Board recognized her worth. She had a feeling it had more to do with keeping her from revealing anything and keeping his own skin intact rather than out of concern for her and her job, a sort of "you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours" kind of deal. It wasn't like he had anything to worry about, though. The only people in the B.S.A.A she was close to were in the S.O.U and S.O.A – the soldiers and agents she went out of her way to help. She'd befriended more soldiers and agents than she had fellow scientists and doctors, so it wasn't like many of her coworkers in the science/medical division would listen to her even if she did have anything bad to say.

The thing was, she really didn't know anything, so what did he think she would say?

"Hendricks informed me that the operation was a success worthy of text books," commented Merrick, oblivious to the confusion gathering in her head. "Was he exaggerating?"

"No, I don't believe he was," she replied, opening the door to Piers' room and stepping inside, her boss following close behind. She went to the young man's right side and indicated to the regenerating arm. "As you can see, the flesh on his face, neck, and side have already healed, and if you look into the wound where his arm was you can see his body growing new bone in response to the loss of the mutated limb. The muscle, tendons, and skin of his arm are regenerating a bit slower than the wounds did to accommodate the bones returning, but within an hour the arm should be completely regenerated." Watching her boss as he looked over the soldier, she added, "I'll be taking an x-ray once the arm has regenerated, but I'm certain that the bones we removed have already regenerated, though the collarbone might still have a little ways to go."

Merrick gave her no indication that he'd heard her, but instead put on a pair of gloves and poked around at the healing arm, less than gently pulling back flesh to take a look while Riley locked her knees and bit her tongue to keep from stopping him. If he wanted to see the healing and regeneration for himself, that was his business, but she just wished he would be gentle about it. Sure, Piers was unconscious and wouldn't feel him poking around the way he was, but it made her uncomfortable. But if he did anything that she even thought might hinder the healing, she wouldn't think twice about speaking up.

"This is remarkable, Conway," Merrick commented, staring intently at the wound as the bone regenerated before his eyes. "With more testing, we could engineer a drug for our soldiers and civilians that will eliminate the need for invasive surgery and the treatment of major wounds."

She nodded but shifted from one foot to the other. "The healing capability wasn't a direct cause of an antidote, such as the case was with Sherry Birkin, so maybe it's a possibility, but…"

"But?"

Licking her lips, she said, "Considering the nature of his healing abilities, the creation of a drug such as the one you're suggesting would require engineering it from the C-Virus he's infected with without curing it, and thus any drug made from it that isn't a cure could unintentionally infect people. I just think it's too much of a risk."

Snorting, he removed the gloves and tossed them into the trash bin containing hazardous materials. "As scientists, it is our job to take risks to save the world. All the vaccines and cures in the world would never have been made without risk. Despite your desire to save everyone, not everyone can be saved," he said, studying the scars spider webbed across Piers' side and a portion of his face. "Sometimes a few must be sacrificed for the greater good. That's what the human trials are for, after all."

For several seconds, Riley just stared at him while he moved to look at her notes and further prod at the young man's healing wound. She wasn't sure if what he said was meant to be taken the way she took it, or if she was simply misunderstanding.

Uncertain, she asked, "Dr. Merrick, I understand that human trials are for ensuring our products are safe for the public, but… are you suggesting we administer a drug that could possibly cause a C-Virus infection to volunteers in the trials?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"Administering a drug like that to someone who is already infected is one thing, but to put someone at risk of becoming infected with the C-Virus is wrong in so many ways. Instead of walking out with a healed wound, they'd be at risk of walking out with a horrific infection!" she argued, unable to justify doing that to someone whether they volunteered or not. "Not to mention that the creation of that kind of drug would involve holding Piers for more testing. We're attempting to cure him, not experiment on him!"

Features hardening with barely suppressed irritation, Merrick set down the file he was looking over and stepped towards Riley, stopping directly in front of her, so close that she had to fight the urge not to take a step back. He was a tall, intimidating man, and though she didn't tend to back down when intimidated, he frightened her at times. With him, she never knew if he would simply snap at her or if he would finally lose it and strike her. Not once had he laid a hand on her, but there were times where she feared he would. This time was no different.

"I do nothing to my patients that is not specified in the consent forms, Conway," Merrick said tightly, glaring sharply at her to the point where she swallowed nervously. "As for your patient, nothing will be done that is not on the form. You have my word on that. But you best believe that I will do whatever it takes to save lives. Sometimes, that involves doing terrible things. The difference between you and I is that I am not blinded by an unrealistic abundance of compassion, nor am I naïve enough to believe that everyone can be saved."

"I understand that not everyone can be saved," she argued, nervously shifting from foot to foot. "But we should at least try to save as many people as –"

"I will not stand here while you insult me, Dr. Conway," he angrily interrupted.

She blinked.

Insulting him wasn't what she'd intended. All she'd wanted to do was inform him of her opinion on what she thought he was saying. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you."

Merrick shook his head at her, sighing. "You have a bright future ahead of you, but if you do not watch what you say to a few certain people I will guarantee that your career would be short lived. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Riley nodded hastily. "Loud and clear, Sir."

"Good. Now, once your patient wakes up, inform him of what we hope to accomplish with the healing properties in his blood and that he still has the option to submit to further testing. Either way, the cure should be ready by tomorrow evening considering that your assumption about the data collected on Jake Muller containing the blueprints for a cure was correct. I expect your report on my desk by day's end," he said curtly before turning on his heel and leaving without another word.

Finally, Riley released the breath she'd been holding and leaned back against the counter. She didn't hope to accomplish anything with his blood because she knew that he wouldn't want to be tested like a science experiment, nor was she willing to keep him in his own personal hell any longer than she had to. Besides, the risks were just too great. But she couldn't say anything to Merrick without putting her career at risk. She'd learned long ago to just agree with him, and thankfully nothing too detrimental to a patient's health had come up, though recent events were pushing it.

As much as she loved her job, she wasn't going to risk infecting others, harming her patients, and she sure as hell wasn't going to put Piers through testing that would require him to remain infected.

Sighing, the doctor picked up her notebook and sat in a chair beside Piers on the right side of the bed. For a long moment, she just watched him sleep and thought about how complicated her job had become since he came in yesterday. Granted Merrick had been making her job harder and testing her personal morals even more in the past three years, but Piers' condition made things that much harder.

Sometimes she felt as though she had to pick certain choices and agree with Merrick just to keep her job, even if it meant doing things that kept her from sleeping for a few days. She wanted her patients to always come first, but sometimes her boss had her put them through tests that weren't actually necessary and were more for his personal experiments. It made her sick to think about some of the things she'd done just because she didn't want to lose her job.

This time was going to be different, though. There was no chance in Hell she was going to submit Piers to testing that wasn't necessary or to anything that he didn't consent to, and she doubted he would consent to anything other than one test to see if the cure would work on him. Again, her dedication to helping him was because she knew him and had become quite fond of him in their sparse meetings in Edonia.

Riley braced her elbows on the bed and put her head in her hands, releasing a long sigh.

Why didn't things in her job ever go smoothly?

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	6. Chapter 6

Piers was terribly confused when he felt the effects of consciousness tugging at the slumber he'd been in. He recalled where he was and knew Riley was the woman helping him, but what was going on was a little foggy. His head felt heavy and his limbs felt like jello. It reminded him of the times where he'd been dead asleep and didn't want to wake up, but had to.

"Piers?"

He recognized that voice, but struggled to place it.

"Piers, can you open your eyes for me?" the voice asked again, and he fought to put a name to it.

A small, soft hand slipped into his larger calloused one and held it gently. "I need you to open your eyes and squeeze my hand for me," she ordered softly.

Riley? There was no doubt in his mind that it was her voice he was hearing in his semi-conscious state, but why was she asking him to squeeze her hand?

It seemed like a strange request, asking him to do something so simple, but he complied and though he didn't open his eyes, he squeezed her hand. His grip wasn't too strong considering he wasn't fully awake, but he must have given her what she wanted because she squeezed his hand back and he felt the palm of her other hand rest lightly on his chest.

"That's great, Piers!" she praised happily, a smile in her voice. "Open your eyes for me, please. I need you to open your eyes."

He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to praise him for doing such a simple thing and that she didn't need to talk to him like he was a kid, but considering that opening his eyes was a bit more difficult than he thought it would be, he kept his mouth shut. The lids of his eyes felt heavy, but as he slowly opened them he noticed that the ache that had been in his right eye wasn't there anymore. It was odd to say the least.

Everything was blurry for a few seconds, but steadily his vision cleared, and just as Riley's reassuring smile was the last thing he remembered, he was greeted by her now cheerfully bright smile.

"Hey," he rasped stupidly, receiving a short but amused laugh from the woman.

"Hey, yourself," she replied.

Raising the bed so that he was sitting up, she reached for a cup of water and handed it to him, her smile threatening to split her lips.

Taking the water, he frowned. "What are you smiling about?" he asked curiously, drinking the water to sooth his throat. Everything was still a bit of a blur in his head.

"Let's see if you can't figure it out for yourself," she suggested, brushing her thumbs along his knuckles. "What do you remember prior to being put under?"

He said slowly, "I remember… I remember you smiling."

She rolled her eyes, though her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Think a little further back. Do you remember why you had to have surgery?"

He did as she requested, thinking about why he had to have surgery… and he suddenly felt like an idiot for not remembering right off the bat that the surgery was to try to remove his mutations.

"My mutations!" he exclaimed, jolting fully awake, and he sat up straighter. "Did it work?"

He was aware that he could just look and see for himself if it had worked, but he was more than a little nervous to do so. If it hadn't worked, he wanted her to tell him so he could brace himself.

"You haven't noticed, have you?" she asked gently, her smile softening.

"Noticed? What are you talking about?"

"Well," she started, lips twitching. "Unless I've learned some new magic trick, I can't hold the same hand you're using to hold that cup of water."

Piers stared at her for a moment, and then felt her brush her thumb over his knuckles again while she used her other hand to take the empty cup of water from him to set it aside.

Promptly he looked for her other hand and his words caught in his throat at the sight of her holding his perfectly normal looking _right _hand. He looked at his chest next, and aside from the odd patterns of dark red/purple scars, the right side looked normal as well. Gulping, he looked in the two-way mirror and saw that his face had returned to looking like his face had prior to injecting himself with the C-Virus, though it also sported a few dark scars.

Gradually, his hazel eyes fell back to his arm, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't think of what to say. In a state of disbelief, none of it seemed real.

Catching on to his trouble taking it all in, Riley pried her hand from his and softly trailed her fingers up and down his arm from his inner elbow to the tips of his fingers to stimulate feeling and cement the fact that it was his arm and that it was real.

"I took an x-ray a little while ago, and everything looks normal," she informed him. "My theory was correct, and all the mutated bones, muscles, tendons, and skin that we had to remove healed normally, and everything that made up your arm that was lost was regenerated from your body's memory. The dark lines on your right side and your face are pieces of mutation that we unfortunately had to leave behind so as not to do harm to anything that wasn't mutated. Once you're cured, either they'll clear up completely or they won't be so obvious and will fade to the point where they look like regular scars." Releasing his arm, she brought her hand to his face and lightly traced the scars around his right eye with the tips of her fingers. "You've already received your five o'clock dose of the suppressant, so you don't have to worry about getting an injection for another three hours. I have increased the dose, so we should only have enough to last up until nine tomorrow night, but Merrick informed me after the operation that there were instructions for creating a cure in the files retrieved on Jake Muller. He said that he should have cure ready by tomorrow evening. You might not have to miss a dose after all."

It was all so surreal, and Piers raised his hand so that he could watch as he flexed his fingers, made a fist, and tested the muscles in his arm. "Feels like I never lost it," he commented, snapping out of his shock.

"Aren't you glad you didn't kill yourself?" she asked, only half joking.

He was glad, _really_ glad.

Elated and feeling more human than he did prior to the operation, Piers pulled off the monitors stuck to his chest off and pulled out the I.V supplying him with morphine before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on a second," Riley advised, grabbing his newly restored right arm. "You shouldn't be –"

"I've been on back since arriving here unless I had to use the bathroom," he interrupted. "I want to walk around."

Sighing, she nodded and held onto his arm while he flattened his feet on the floor, taking a moment before he put his weight on his legs.

His legs felt half asleep from such little use and the lingering effects of the anesthesia, but overall he found he had no trouble standing. Looking to the virologist ready to help him remain standing or sit back down, he had bite back a chuckle. She was almost a head shorter than he was, so the thought of her trying to support his weight was fairly amusing. But he wasn't a cripple, nor was he a little kid.

"I've got this," he insisted.

She was hesitant, but nodded and reluctantly let go so he could walk around on his own.

Now that he didn't have the weight of the mutated limb and the pain the mutations caused, walking was much easier. It felt good to finally walk around without the only option being to walk to the bathroom.

Stepping over to the two-way mirror, he raised his right arm to get a good look at his side.

Apart from the red/purple scars of leftover mutation, everything looked positively normal. If he had to, he could live with the dark lines remaining as they were as long as he was cured. They weren't overly abnormal. The reminder of what he went through would always be there, but he was a soldier. He could live with a few scars.

"Do you want some real clothes?" Riley asked suddenly. "I only ask because Claire's stopping at my place later to bring me a change of clothes, so I can have her stop at your place if you want something aside from scrubs to wear. I just need to know where you live and where you keep a spare key."

He looked at his scrub-like pants and couldn't deny that he would prefer his own clothes, so he nodded. "I'd appreciate that, but I don't have a spare key."

"That's fine. I'll just have Claire make sure she brings Jill along. If she can't pick the lock on your front door, then she's got a problem," she replied, smiling.

He smiled too, knowing that Jill was very good at picking locks, and he gave her the address to his apartment. He would have preferred to live in an actual house of his own, but his job kept him away so much that it was more convenient and cheaper to just live in a small apartment.

Writing down the address he gave her, she tore the page from her notebook. "Okay, I'll be right back."

She was out the door to call Claire before he could say anything else, and he was left alone to assess his situation in silence.

Old scars were not on his right arm anymore, the skin new, but the strength and overall look of his arm was exactly as it was before it was crushed and dismembered. What Riley had promised had sounded impossible, and yet here he was, looking at his regenerated arm and healed skin. If there were ever a time where he believed in miracles, this was the time.

There was still a chance that the cure wouldn't work, at which time he expected Riley to follow through with her other promise, but just having his arm back returned to him a piece of himself that he feared he'd lost down in that underwater base. It also locked in the hope she had given him prior to the surgery, preventing it from being pushed away by any thought of uncertainty. She gave him back his arm; surely she could give him back his life too.

Walking around the small room, he decided that the first thing he would do once he had a change of clothes was take a much needed shower. The shower in the sorry excuse of a bathroom was small and didn't look like it would put out much water pressure, and he doubted the water would be hot, but as it was he just wanted to wash off the grime from his hair along with the stress that had been plaguing him prior to coming to a few minutes ago.

Only five minutes or so had passed before Riley reentered the room with considerably more than she left with.

"I caught Claire just as she was getting ready to leave, and she said that she and Jill would be by within the hour with a change of clothes for the both of us. I'll just have to pick them up from Cynthia at the desk upstairs," she explained, setting down some magazines, a deck of cards, and her IPhone. "I figured sitting around is probably driving you nuts, so I brought you some things I had laying around."

Boredom had become his enemy since arriving.

"Thanks," he replied, but she acted like she didn't hear him.

Nervously running her fingers from her hair, she continued, "Most of my magazines have to do with science and medical stuff that you probably wouldn't be interested in, but I do have some issues of _National Geographic_ you might like. Also, there's a deck of cards – I don't know why I have those since I don't play cards with anyone – and there are some movies and games on my phone that you're welcome to." She tucked her hair behind her ears and picked up her phone, looking at the games. "There's solitaire, that's always fun, I guess. Personally, I like the chess app I have, but, I don't know… damn, don't I have anything else on this thing?" she asked herself, tapping and sliding her thumb across the phone's screen as she searched. "I do have some good movies, um, I have, uh…"

Riley started rattling off the names of movies she had on her phone, but he wasn't paying attention to the movies she was listing. What had his attention was the nervousness in her voice and how her normally soft tone had risen ever so slightly in pitch. When it came to discussing his condition or anything that had to do with science or medicine, she was cool and composed, but the moment she started on a subject that didn't have a lot to do with her profession, she lost that composer and became anxious, and a flush had found its way to her fair skin while she continued talking more to herself.

Hoping to ease her nerves as well as express his gratitude, Piers walked over to her and took the phone from her, setting it on top of the magazines, and tenderly framed her face with his hands on either cheek, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Thank you," he repeated more firmly so that it would get through to her.

The physical contact had the intended effect and her nervous rattling ceased and she nodded in response to his thanks, but the pink hue in her face changed to red, and he felt her soft skin heat up under his hands. Most notably under his right hand.

Without her, he wouldn't have that hand.

Almost unconsciously, he brushed the backs of his fingers on his right hand against her cheek and along her jaw. He'd been a bit taken with her since meeting her back in Edonia, but had been curious about her ever since hearing Chris talk about her along with Jill and Claire. Having her try to make him comfortable while fighting to get him back to normal was just icing on the cake. If he had it his way and he was cured, he'd see to it that he made the time to get to know her better.

"Are you always this nervous when it comes to something other than your job?" he asked quietly, curious.

"Well, uh," she trailed off and nodded when he flattened his right hand against the side of her neck, her pulse hammering. "I've pursued a career in virology since I graduated high school at fifteen, but, uh, I'd been dedicated to becoming a virologist since I was eleven. I had to dedicate most of my time to studying and becoming completely knowledgeable on all things in the medical field just to be taken seriously. It didn't leave a whole lot of time to socialize, and being nearly a genius doesn't exactly draw in friends, either. I'm not saying I'm anti-social, because I do have friends and like to hang out with them, I just… I know how to do my job, and I know how to do it better than most. Anything else… that's up in the air. Hell, if it weren't for Jill dragging me out of my apartment to go to a club once in a while, and Claire insisting that we spend our time running around when she's in town, I probably wouldn't get out as much as I do."

That was upsetting, considering how easily she'd made friends amongst the soldiers in Edonia. She was an incredibly likable person.

"Focusing solely on the job will drive you crazy," he informed her, recalling how obsessed Chris had become at one point. "You need to get out once in a while."

"Yeah, I know," she admitted, nodding. A soft smile graced her face and she joked, "With all the work I'm putting in to getting you better, I'd say you should take me out for a beer."

"A beer?" he repeated, smiling. Removing his hands from her face, her look of disappointment at the action quite evident in the slight pout on her full lips, he turned his attention to looking at the various issues of the _National Geographic _magazines. "Forget the beer – the moment I walk out of here, I'm taking you out to dinner."

He caught Riley blinking at him out of the corner of his eye, and his smile widened. Whereas she might have been joking around, he was dead serious.

"Dinner?" she repeated, in need of confirmation.

"Unless you'd rather go out to lunch. But if you're not interested…"

"Oh, no, dinner sounds great," she said quickly, the blush accompanying her smile. "You know, it's nice to finally see you hopeful enough to start making plans for after you're cured."

"Hey, you gave me back my arm. If you think your boss can come up with a cure by tomorrow night, I believe you," Piers replied, and he frowned when her smile faltered slightly.

"Speaking of my boss, he wanted me to run something by you," she said reluctantly.

Leaning against his side on the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest. "All right."

Worrying her lower lip, she explained, "He believes that a drug could be made from your blood that could effectively heal the wounds soldiers sustain without having to resort to invasive treatment, or even surgery. Unlike Agent Birkin, who acquired the ability to heal after being treated with the antidote, the modified C-Virus gives you that ability and isn't directly caused by an antidote. Dr. Merrick wanted me to inform you that you still have the chance to submit to further testing, even though it would require you to remain infected, even after I run out of the suppressant."

That sure wasn't going to happen, but he was surprised to hear the reluctance in her voice.

"You don't sound too enthusiastic about the idea. I would have thought you'd jump at the opportunity to help more soldiers," he commented, his concern growing when she looked around nervously, almost as if she were afraid somebody would overhear.

Looking over her shoulder at the security camera in the corner of the room then to the two-way mirror beside it, she shifted so that her back was to them. Keeping her voice quiet, she said, "I ran through the specifics of what it would take to get the type of drug Merrick is after, and in every instance it requires mutating the modified C-Virus, but not destroying it. In other words, what he wants would give anyone injected with the drug in the human trials accelerated healing, but there is no doubt that it will also infect them with the C-Virus to some degree. Anything that isn't a cure would be dangerous and probably wouldn't even pass the trials. I told Merrick this, but he doesn't see the problem with the risk of volunteers in the human trials becoming infected because, according to him, 'saving lives involves doing terrible things sometimes' – something like that."

Piers gaped at her. "He thinks it's okay to infect people? Is he insane?" he demanded, raising his voice.

"Shh!" Riley hissed, glancing back to the camera and the two-way mirror. "This conversation isn't exactly private, you know!"

"So, there's a mic in the room and a two-way mirror – who gives a shit?" he questioned without lowering his voice, succeeding in panicking her further. "Who are you worried is going to hear?"

Shifting from foot to foot, licking her lips nervously, she answered quietly, "My boss didn't say it, but he would have rather I'd tried to convince you to consent to being tested further and postpone being cured. When he finds out that I basically told you that I disagree with him and that I gave you the specifics of what the drug he wants might do… he's going to be pissed to say the least."

"I don't care if he's pissed, this is about doing what's right and what's wrong," he argued, his anger rising.

She ran her hands through her dark blond hair, bracing her elbows on the counter, and insisted, "It's not that simple, Piers. He can single-handedly cause me to lose my job."

Piers stared at her in angered disbelief, hoping he'd read between the lines incorrectly. "So what you're saying is that your job is more important than protecting people, is that it?"

"What? No! I just… I…" Riley trailed off, shaking her head. "This job is my life, Piers, it's all I have."

He shook his head at her.

"Damn it, Riley, you can't tell me that you're willing to infect people just to keep your job. I don't know you very well, but I know you well enough to know that infecting people isn't you," he said tightly, trying to figure out why Merrick worried her so much.

"I'm afraid of him, okay? There, are you happy?" she snapped angrily, sending a sharp glare his way when she finally lost her temper. "He can ruin my career, more than once he's acted like he's going to slap me across the face, he does God-knows-what to the patients who consent to be in his experiments, has his own private security down in sub-level three, and has the Board wrapped around his finger. Excuse me if I'm a little apprehensive about putting my head on the chopping block! Christ, I… I can't tell you how many times I've lost sleep thinking about some of the things I've gone along with just to keep my head on my shoulders."

Piers didn't know what to say and just stared at Riley, stunned by her confession. He couldn't say he approved of her siding with Merrick to keep her job, but at least he understood why she sided with him or did what he wanted. She was scared of the man.

"Hey," he started, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "Why not tell someone what he's up to? If Chris knew, he would do something about it."

"Like what?" she sighed. "Not every problem can be solved by shooting or punching. I don't really know anything. All I hear are the rumors everyone else does."

"Chris helped found the B.S.A.A," he pointed out, but she shook her head. "Rumors or not, he'll see to it that people find out what Merrick's up to."

"He might have founded the B.S.A.A with a few others, but now it's under U.N control. He has a say in what goes on, but he's hardly in charge. Besides, I don't want to get him in trouble." She glanced up at him before looking away again for a few seconds, gathering herself, and then met his eyes again. "And before you go condemning me and jumping to conclusions, you should know that I already told Merrick that I don't approve of what he has planned should you give consent, and I reminded him that we're attempting to cure you, not prolong your infection. And just because I said this isn't as simple as you think doesn't mean that I'm going to go through with what he wants. I _never_ said I was going to risk infecting people. I've done some questionable things to keep my job, but I'm not selfish enough to hurt people like that to keep it."

Replaying the conversation, he cringed and wanted to kick himself.

All she'd said was that doing what was right and what was wrong wasn't simple, that she was afraid of Merrick, and afraid of losing her job. She hadn't said that she was going to risk infecting people, and yet he'd jumped to the conclusion that she was willing to do just that.

Watching his face closely, she asked timidly, "Did you seriously think I would readily infect people just to keep my job?"

"No, and that's why I got angry. It didn't make sense that you'd be willing to infect people when I'd seen you ready to give your arm and leg if it meant helping infected soldiers back in Edonia," he explained with a heavy sigh. "And no wonder it didn't make sense – I took what you said the wrong way."

"You think?"

"I'm sorry," Piers apologized, running his hands up and down her arms. Glancing at the camera and the two-way mirror, he thought quickly and urged her closer, wrapping his arms around her until she was flush against his chest. He felt her stiffen against him, but she didn't fight or speak, either out of confusion or consent, he didn't know. Lowering his head and pressing his lips to her ear, he whispered just loud enough for her to hear, "You said I'll be cured, and I believe you. Once I'm out of here, I'll get together with Chris, and the two of us will dig up was we can on Merrick. Chris' opinion still carries a lot of weight, and if we find anything questionable we'll take it directly to the main Board in the U.N. Your name will never be brought up, and I'll personally make sure your job isn't at risk. You have my word, Riley. I've got your back."

Upon hearing his promise, the woman in his arms relaxed and her arms went around his torso, clinging to him while she dropped her forehead onto his shoulder. He faintly heard her mumble a "thank you" into his skin, and he took that as a sign that he was forgiven for stuffing his foot in his mouth earlier by taking what she said wrong.

Riley turned her head towards his neck to rest the side of her head against his shoulder, relaxing more comfortably against his chest, and he felt her warm breath against his skin when she yawned. She'd probably gotten about as little sleep as he did, maybe even less considering he'd spent more than a few hours either tranquilized or under anesthesia. It wouldn't surprise him one bit if she fell asleep standing up.

He realized that what they were doing was probably inappropriate – a doctor and patient hugging the way they were – but he was perfectly content with being locked in each others embrace, so he said nothing and allowed the moment to play out until someone walked in or until Riley pulled away. Considering how comfortable she seemed to be, he doubted she'd be moving any time soon.

Resting his chin on her head, Piers sighed, feeling himself relax for the first time in too long, completely oblivious to the watchful pair of grey eyes on the other side of the two-way mirror.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **_**Sorry for the minor delay. This chapter was surprisingly difficult to write, and I ended up scrapping it at one point and completely rewriting it. Not to mention I needed to take a day to just vegetate and sleep after a chaotic weekend at work.**_

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Frustrated beyond belief, Riley threw her hands up in surrender. "That's it, I'm done!"

Piers stared at her with unmasked amusement, and insisted, "Come on, you might actually win."

"I also could have won the last three times in the past two hours if you hadn't gotten your cards back both times!" she snapped lightheartedly.

"That's the point of War," the young sniper explained, looking at his cards for a moment. "It's a game of chance. One minute you're winning and the next you're losing."

She snorted, already having decided that she hated the card game War.

Interrupting their fairly intimate embrace last night, a security officer walked in to inform her that Claire and Jill were up at Cynthia's desk with a bag of clothes. She'd been a tad embarrassed about nearly falling asleep against him and recalled feeling her cheeks flaming, but oddly enough she hadn't been humiliated like she would have been if he were someone else and didn't even apologize for practically turning him into a pillow.

When she'd gone topside to retrieve their clothes, Jill informed her that things in China weren't getting any better, but were instead gradually getting worse. The Chinese government refused to bomb the city to wipe out the infection, and to some extent that was a good thing, given that there could still be survivors hiding. The downside was that in light of the decision not to bomb the city, the area had been quarantined off to prevent the infection from spreading, but the quarantine wasn't holding. Infected people managed to break through the blockade and reports suggested that despite the government's attempt to keep the C-Virus at bay with the help of the B.S.A.A, they were failing, and it was only a matter of time before the infection reached a major city in China.

And that was only half of the problem the world was facing.

Sheva, Chris' former partner in Africa, informed him a few hours ago that there were scattered reports of the C-Virus in her corner of the world. More reports were flooding in every hour from other B.S.A.A branches around the world.

To top it all off, Chris and agent Leon Kennedy had clashing reports that had them in meetings all day with both the B.S.A.A and the D.S.O. Chris claimed that he and Piers witnessed Ada Wong – the woman supposedly responsible for the outbreaks in Edonia and China – be shot and killed by a sniper in a helicopter while they were on an aircraft carrier and that he told his friend this when they last spoke. Leon confirmed that Chris had told him that Ada was killed, but then proceeded to claim that she'd shown up in a helicopter to help both he and Helena defeat Derek Simmons and that she was the one who had provided them with the evidence against Simmons that cleared his and his partner's names. Seeing as none of it added up, the two friends and Helena Harper were stuck in meetings to try to figure out just what had happened.

Claire and Jill were both so confused about the whole thing that they didn't know who was right and who was wrong, but Jill didn't have a whole lot of time to dwell on it. Given the situation of the C-Virus popping up all over the place, the blond B.S.A.A agent was being sent to South America to meet up with another agent in order to figure out just where the C-Virus had started in South America and find clues as to who had infected people. Claire was also going to be quite busy as Terra Save was going to break off into groups to try to help the uninfected in infected areas in a few days.

When she returned to Piers after changing into the black suit pants and dark purple V-neck t-shirt the two women brought her, she handed him his bag of clothes – a army green t-shirt, blue jeans, socks, and whatnot – and the combat boots. Once he returned from changing, she informed him of what was going on in the world and with Chris. He was very insistent that he saw Ada die. But he also added that he and Chris did speak to a woman claiming to be "another Ada" in the underwater base via the intercom. It was quite possible that the Ada who he'd seen killed was a clone and that the real Ada was still out there, or that the woman had died had been the real Ada, and there were still clones wandering around, or that Ada had a twin. There really was no way to know.

That set a rather grim mood for the rest of the evening so Riley worked on writing her report while Piers entertained himself with a movie on her phone. Neither got a whole lot of sleep that night after they turned in, though, still needing to wake up every three hours so he could receive his next dose. It wasn't until twelve in the afternoon that she finally decided to stay awake. Piers hadn't been thrilled with her decision considering how tired he was, but grudgingly stayed awake also. At some point he managed to talk her into playing War, a game she'd never played before, and she wished she'd convinced him to play something else.

Setting her cards down, she said, "I think I'll just stick to chess. At least that requires some brain cells."

"I couldn't play chess to save my life," Piers commented, putting the cards back in the box. "Too boring."

"I don't think so. My dad… he and I used to play it all the time when he had custody of my sister and me."

He set the deck aside, and asked, "You're parents are divorced?"

She nodded. "Yeah, they split when I was three and Holly – my sister – was fourteen. The courts decided that our mother was the parent with the most stable life so she had us the majority of the year, but it had more to do with her owning a high-end retail store down in Miami and having more money to her name than it did stability. My dad was a very smart doctor and could have worked in any hospital he wanted, but he opted to travel to less fortunate places in the world with various relief groups and the Red Cross to provide health care to the people who needed it but couldn't really afford it," she explained, smiling slightly at the memories that came forth. "Whenever my mom dropped Holly and me on his doorstep so she could go to Paris for a month or spend time with some new boyfriend for any crazy length of time, he would take us to places like Italy, Spain, India, China, anywhere just so he could expose us to other cultures as well as to get me out of the house for a while. Along with private school, my mom made sure that I was working with a tutor from sunup to sundown on the weekends. Add that to my gymnastics lessons and you've got yourself one exhausted kid. Traveling with my Dad, playing chess… it helped me stay sane. He's why I decided to become a virologist."

"Sounds like a great guy," Piers said, smiling a half-smile at her. "Where's your family now? Do they live in the area?"

Riley swallowed the painful lump in her throat. "My mom is still in Miami with her retail store, and my dad and Holly… they're in the Congo."

"The Congo?" the soldier repeated, brows raised. "What are they doing there?"

Riley only shrugged, wishing she hadn't brought it up as painful memories surged forward. Standing, she straightened her purple shirt and padded over to the sink in her bare feet, having ditched her heels by the door, and got herself a cup of water. "I was thinking I might head up to the cafeteria to get something to munch on. Would you like anything?"

Piers stared at her for a moment as if he were considering asking her why she didn't answer his question. But after a moment he simply said, "Wouldn't mind another burger. I've had better, but they're not that bad."

"With how many you've had me go get, I would have thought you loved them."

"Why change a good thing?" he asked. "I've heard stories about the food in the cafeteria."

That broke through Riley's sad memories and she laughed, and said, "Trust me, the food isn't as bad as people make it out to be."

"Still, I'll stick with the cheese burgers, thanks," he said, chuckling.

Leaning back against the counter, the virologist sighed. When she caught Piers looking towards the clock, she followed his gaze and nearly slumped. It was only three fifty-six o'clock in the afternoon, but it felt so much later.

Around one o'clock, Merrick sent her an email informing her that he'd worked all night with little sleep so that he could build the formula for the cure that had been laid out in the data on Jake and said that the cure should be ready anywhere from three to six o'clock. He also told her that Jake had left after giving not one, but two pints of blood. Merrick stated that he wished he could have kept the young man longer to run more tests on him, but that the U.N headquarters had "requested" Jake and Sherry's presence to discuss what had transpired in Edonia and China, so it was out of his hands. She could only imagine how angry he was to not be able to run more tests on Jake, but she was glad that he had been called away from her boss's experiments, whatever those experiments may be.

She told Piers when to expect the cure, and ever since they had both been watching the clock, impatiently waiting for her boss to walk through the door with the infected soldier's salvation. Every second felt like a minute, and every minute felt like an hour. And now that it was after three, they were both sitting on pins and needles.

Riley wasn't going to administer the cure to Piers right away, however. Before that needle was anywhere near him, she wanted to look at it under a microscope after introducing a drop of his infected blood to it. If she saw something that hinted that it wouldn't work she wasn't going to give it to him yet. Her patient might not be too thrilled with her refusal to give him the cure if she didn't trust it, but as far as she was concerned he could yell and bitch at her all he wanted until it was perfected. She wasn't going to risk losing him.

Noticing that he was still staring at the clock, she said softly, "Don't worry. Merrick said that he'll have the cure ready by six at the latest. He doesn't give a due date like that if he thinks he might go over the time. Have some patience."

"Says the woman who's been glancing at the clock every few minutes," he retorted, leaning back on the propped up bed with one leg bent at the knee, the dirt on his boot smudging the white sheets.

"Touché," she sighed, unable to deny that she was just as anxious as he was.

Piers looked at her. "Come here," he urged, scooting over to the edge of the barely-twin sized medical bed.

She eyed him for a few seconds before finally walking over to lie back on the bed next to him. To keep from falling off, they had to press up against each other from shoulder, hip, to foot, and it was a bit uncomfortable considering she felt like she was going to fall off. Recognizing the problem as he too was balancing on the edge, he shifted and raised his arm. Taking the hint, she moved so that she was on her side and let her rest on his shoulder while he moved closer to the center of the bed. They were still perilously close to the edges of the bed, but the change in position was considerably more comfortable.

Laying so very intimately against him, Riley was incredibly comfortable and content but also uneasy and confused. She didn't know why he asked her to lay on the bed with him or why he said nothing to explain his actions. All he did after she moved to her side and placed her head on his right shoulder was loop his arm around her shoulders and trail his fingers idly up and down her arm in a way that sent a pleasant shiver up her spine. It was because of those pleasant shivers that she held her tongue and didn't disturb the moment even though her cheeks were flaming with the close proximity to the man she'd been attracted to since meeting him in Edonia.

Riley wasn't little miss innocent. She'd been in relationships with men – both younger and older – where the physical acts ranged from something as simple as a peck on the cheek to fooling around in bed, but those relationships never lasted too long because more often than not the men who came to her were drawn in by her appearance and friendly nature while she was out clubbing with Jill or Claire, or out at a bar for a drink, unaware that she was smarter than most men in the room. Once they found that out, normally when she started rambling like a nut, told them about her job, or started correcting them when they made snap-judgements about the B.S.A.A, they were turned off. They'd stick around for a while, they would argue over why she was constantly being called back to work either at HQ in D.C or sent to some country to fight a virus while soldiers around her fought the monsters the virus created, and shortly after they would leave with or without a goodbye. Sometimes she was told it wasn't working, sometimes they said they weren't ready to settle down, the excuses went on and on.

With those men, she was jittery and nervous at first, but not to any significant degree because she knew what to expect from them. They would fall for the idea of a pretty and young looking blond hanging onto their arm, then they'd come face to face with the reality that she was damn near a genius with a very demanding job that sometimes called her to dangerous places, and would at some point decide that they wanted someone else and left. After a while, her typical nervousness wore away from the men who came onto her and was replaced with the comfort of routine.

This was most definitely not the case with Piers.

Piers was a better man than every one of the few men she'd been in a relationship by far. The difference between him and those men were night and day, fire and ice. They couldn't even be compared, and that frightened her more than a little bit and made her more flustered and uncertain. She and Piers weren't together by any means, but she was attracted to him and didn't have a clue what to expect from him. That attraction and uncertainty frightened her, but it also intrigued her.

After a few short minutes of silence, Piers finally said, "When Merrick comes in with the cure, I'd rather you looked it over and gave it to me, not him. I haven't met him and I already don't trust him one bit."

Riley hesitated.

Maybe the closeness Piers had initiated was his way to loosen her up in case he thought she would want Merrick to administer the cure. Maybe she was the only one with romantic feelings. Or maybe the closeness had nothing to do with it all. She was so confused.

"I was already planning to check it first before _I _gave it to you," she assured him, breathing out a long sigh. "Don't worry."

"Just making sure it gets looked at before I get injected with it. The last thing I want is to mutate into some freakish creature because your boss decided to add me to his list of experiments at the last minute," he replied, only half joking.

"He can't do anything that wasn't listed in the form you signed, and we both read that form," she reminded him, lifting her head to look at him, blushing further when she realized how close their faces were. She swore she saw a bit of color rise to his cheeks as well. "All you consented to is having one dose of a possible antidote administered to you, that's it."

"Nothing you say could make me trust that guy after what you told me yesterday."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, not wanting to get into another argument with anyone about her boss, then opened her eyes, a lock of blond hair falling in her face when she shifted a bit. "Can we not get into this again?"

A beat passed before he nodded

"Yeah, all right." A sympathetic look fell over his face and he reached a hand toward her face to tuck her hair back behind her ears. "You look tired."

"So do you," she replied, worrying on her lower lip, suddenly incredibly aware of just how close they were.

Piers ran his hazel eyes over her face until they fell to her lips, and her pulse quickened, causing her skin to become flushed. Making up his mind after watching her a moment longer, he gradually leaned in, and it was almost as if he had a magnetic pull on her as well because she leaned in also, intent on meeting him halfway as her heart pounded in her ears.

And that was when the door opened, Merrick and two from his private security officers walking inside.

Riley darted off the bed like she'd been shocked, her face flaming with embarrassment. It would figure that her boss would walk in at a time like this. For his part, Piers also looked embarrassed, but he hid it better than she did and calmly rose from the bed.

Dr. Merrick looked from Piers to Riley, a nasty smirk on his face. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"N-No, sir," she stuttered, wishing that her face would cool and the color would return to normal, seeing how red her face was in the two-way mirror. "I assume, uh, I assume that if you're here that means you have the cure ready?"

He watched them closely for another few seconds before nodding, and said, "I have."

Reaching into his coat pocket, he retrieved a capped syringe of dark red liquid.

"May I see it?"

"You don't trust me?"

She hesitated. "I, uh, it's just…"

"I told her I wanted her to check it out after you made it," Piers spoke up, moving around the bed to stand beside her with his arms at his side. "I know her, not you."

"Dr. Conway?" he asked, wanting confirmation, enjoying the sight of her squirming.

"I only want to look at it under the microscope, sir," she explained, following Piers' lead. "If it'll make my patient more comfortable, I don't see a problem."

"Very well," Merrick sighed, handing her the syringe.

She skipped the thank you and set the filled syringe on the counter and put on some gloves before flattening the bed and indicating for her friend to lay back so she could draw some blood.

"So what's with the backup?" Piers asked Merrick, holding out his arm for Riley. "Is that 'cure' you made going to do something to me that you'll need it?"

He smiled tightly. "Just a precaution, I assure you."

The young man narrowed his eyes at him, hardly wincing when Riley slipped the needle into his arm. Once she'd drawn the blood and placed a drop on a slide, Piers said to the older man with an unmasked lack of trust, "Here's to me hoping you didn't somehow lose my consent form."

"Piers!" Riley snapped, tossing him a glare that told him to shut up before he got them both in trouble. He certainly had no problem with letting her boss know he didn't like him, and that didn't exactly help her any.

"The lack of trust coming from you astounds me," Merrick sighed irritably, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "I have your form right here, Mr. Nivans. You will receive the cure, I assure you. Dr. Conway…" Riley started and turned to face him as he put the paper back in his pocket. "Would you please inform your patient that the drug I gave you will indeed cure him so we can cease this nonsense?"

Swallowing thickly, she nodded and uncapped the syringe of dark red liquid. With a steady hand, she added a drop of the liquid onto the blood on the slide and quickly put it into place under the microscope. She watched the C-Virus react almost violently to the cells they were bound to, and some of his cells darkened to the point where she thought they were going to burst and be destroyed. So far, it sure didn't appear to be a cure. But then the drug started eating away at the C-Virus and his cells livened up again, and in a few seconds there was no trace of the C-Virus in the drop of blood.

"Well?" Piers prodded, watching her intently when she raised her head from the microscope.

"It appears to have worked, but I can guarantee that it's going to hurt like hell," she warned, running her fingers through her hair. She wasn't comfortable with the cure Merrick had presented her with, but it looked like it would work, so it had her approval. "Do you want to do this?"

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "Didn't come this far not to."

Merrick came over to her, reaching for the syringe, but she snatched it away. At his glare, she explained, "I'm his doctor – I should do it. If something goes wrong, it'll be on me."

He thought about it and then shrugged, stepping away.

Catching the barely there smile Piers sent her, she returned it.

"Okay, here we go," she murmured, and she swabbed a spot over a vein on his right arm.

Picking up the syringe, she stared at it for longer than necessary, realizing that she was probably as nervous as he was about this. But there was no going back now, and this was his decision in the end. So, taking a deep breath, she inserted the syringe into the vein she'd swabbed and steadily but quickly injected the drug into his system.

Piers winced.

"How are you doing?" she asked, setting the syringe aside and picking up his wrist to keep track of his pulse.

"All right, I think," he replied tightly, the muscles in his arm going through spasms. "My whole body's cramping up and burning, and it's getting worse."

Riley had no doubt that the pain was getting worse as she watched the veins in his right arm darken in response to the drug just as the cells darkened under the microscope.

Then without warning, Piers' back arched as the drug made its way to his heart and spread throughout the rest of his body, and he clenched his jaw tightly, hissing through his teeth while his booted feet kicked out at the bed and air.

Worried that he'd hurt himself, she dropped his wrist and struggled to hold him down. "Give me a hand here!" she snapped at one of the guards with Merrick.

The man didn't move a muscle.

"Damn it, help me!" she shouted when Piers nearly shoved her across the room, forcing her to fist her hand in his shirt and dig her fingers into his shoulder.

Merrick looked to the man she'd shouted at and said calmly, "Give her some assistance, won't you?"

And just like that, the guard hurried forward to Piers' left side and pushed down on his shoulder and chest to keep him down.

She just stared at him in disbelief that while he'd completely ignored her, he'd jumped right away when Merrick told him to. If it had been Dwayne, she wouldn't have had to ask for help because he would already be helping her. This man here, it seemed, would do nothing unless ordered to do so by the head virologist.

The color of Piers' veins darkened considerable, but the spider web-like scars of mutation on the right side of his neck and face – most likely on his chest, too – lightened and changed back to his skin tone, though a tad lighter, proving that she was right about them becoming nothing more than barely there scars once he was cured. It was impossible, however, for her to be elated by the sight of the scars becoming less visible with how scorching hot his skin was becoming and the look of agony on his face. If the pain didn't dissipate soon, she was going to give him a heavy dose of morphine to counteract the pain. But just as she was considering making a reach for the morphine, the dark color of his veins gradually began to lighten.

"It's almost over, Piers, it's almost over," she assured him anxiously, her voice shaking almost as much as the young man's body was. When he stopped thrashing, she sifted her fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to help as best as she could. "The worst is over, I promise."

Eyes squeezed shut, he just nodded and swallowed, riding out the last few waves of pain before he finally released a long breath.

Taking his wrist in her hand again, she felt for his pulse, and though it was a bit racy, it was steadily returning to normal. "All right, I think you're in the clear. I just need to take a blood sample to see if the C-Virus is still in your system," she said, feeling her own heart rate return to normal, and she hastily went to work on filling another small tube with blood.

"Can I sit up?" he asked, voice strained, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Yeah, of course, here," she replied, handing him the controller for the bed.

"Thanks." Once the guard moved back to Merrick's side, he raised the bed so that he was sitting up. He then lifted his t-shirt, damp with sweat, to check on the scars on his chest. They'd faded just as the others had. Eager and hopeful, he looked to Riley and asked, "Did it work? Am I cured?"

She ignored him for the moment, busy focusing on getting the blood onto the slide and putting it under the microscope. Gripping the counter, she took a breath, bracing herself for the worst just in case.

"Any day now, Dr. Conway," Merrick snapped impatiently, causing her to jump and Piers to glare at him.

Pushing her own nervous anxiety to the side, she peered into the lenses of the microscope and searched for signs of the C-Virus and the antibodies of the cure.

Riley's legs almost gave out beneath her from what she saw, and she grinned like an idiot.

"There's no trace of the C-Virus," she announced, turning to lean back heavily against the counter. "It's like it was never there!"

Merrick came forward to look for himself, but she didn't really give a damn and went right back to the bed.

Piers, it seemed, couldn't stop smiling either.

All the pain, fear, and uncertainty the C-Virus had brought, all hours spent wondering whether or not a cure could work for the modified C-Virus melted away and though the memory of it would undoubtedly remain in the young soldier's mind for the rest of his life, it would be just that – a memory. He was cured, and he would soon be free to return to his life.

The first the Riley was going to do was call Chris to let him know that Piers was going to be okay. He'd want to know as soon as possible.

Piers grasped her small hand in his, drawing her from her thoughts, and she looked to his smiling face. "Thank you," he said with the utmost sincerity.

To her, two simple words had never meant so much.

He reluctantly looked to Merrick, and also said, "Thank you," but it sounded more than a little forced.

"My job was to engineer a cure, and I did just that," the other doctor replied coolly. "Your thanks is unneeded."

Piers snorted, but nothing appeared able to bring down his mood.

"Ready to get out of this place?" Riley asked, bracing her hands on the side of the bed, smiling.

"Definitely," he replied with a smile of his own, raising his shirt again to wipe away the remnants of sweat that was on his face. "When can I leave?"

"Well, I want to keep you for observation for at least an hour, but I'd say you can go home tonight," she replied. Never had she been so happy to tell a patient that they could go home. And once he left, he would no longer be her patient, and thus she wouldn't feel like a hug or going to dinner like he promised were inappropriate.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and she turned her head to find Merrick standing behind her.

"What makes you think he can leave, Dr. Conway?" he asked curiously.

Riley frowned and glanced at Piers before turning her attention back to her boss, not entirely comfortable with how tight his grip on her shoulder was. "He's permitted to leave since the cure was a success. It says so in the form he signed," she reminded him.

Releasing her shoulder, Merrick rubbed his chin as if thinking. "No, I don't believe it does," he stated, and then pulled the form from his pocket, unfolding it. "Ah, yes, I'm correct. It says right here that upon receiving the antidote – permitted it works, of course – the patient hereby agrees to follow through with any tests Dr. Ethan Merrick deems necessary in order to combat the Chrysalid Virus, also known as the C-Virus. The tests may consist of, but may not be limited to, the re-infection of the virus the patient was infected with prior to receiving the antidote, and so on and so forth – I dumbed it down a bit for your benefit," Merrick said snidely to Piers who was positively fuming. "That was the summary of it all. You're welcome to read it more thoroughly if you wish, Dr. Conway."

She snatched the form from the man and raked her eyes over it, and she felt a wave of nausea hit her like a wave. "No… No, I read what he signed! This isn't it!"

"Let me see that!" Piers took the paper out of her hands, managing to give her a long paper cut in his haste, and he read it over and over again. "I didn't sign this! I would _never _sign this!" he roared at the doctor with the two unmoving guards. "You forged my fucking signature, didn't you? Is this what you did to your other patients? Did you have them sign something that promised they'd go home then forge there goddamn signatures on forms you knew they wouldn't sign?" he demanded, face reddening.

Riley wanted this to just be a nightmare that she would wake up from, but she was too smart to believe that it could be a nightmare even though it felt like one.

"Did you do that?" she asked, hoping to God that he hadn't and that there was some reasonable explanation for this mess. "Did you force your patients to be… to become… _test subjects_?"

"Force," Merrick started, putting a great deal of emphasis into the word. "Is hardly the word I would use, Dr. Conway. My patients were simply not in a sound state of mind to make the proper decisions on their own, so upon gaining their signature, I made the right decision for them."

The way he said it… he didn't believe what he was doing was wrong. He sounded proud of what he did.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Piers shouted, bolting off the bed to lunge at the man.

Before he could get close enough to do any damage to the head virologist, the two guards were on him. One grabbed his arms and pinned them behind his back, the young soldier weakened from the effects of the antidote, and the other rammed the butt of his assault rifle into his gut, knocking the air from his lungs and buckling his knees.

"Piers!"

Riley made to go to him, to shove the guards away, to do _something_, but Merrick grabbed her arm tightly and yanked her towards the door despite her struggling.

"We have much to discuss in regards to your future, Dr. Conway," her crooked boss said casually, without a care in the world. "If you'll please follow me."

"Get the hell off me!" Riley snarled, clawing at his hand on her arm. All that earned her was a sharp yank that dragged her closer to the door. Looking back at Piers in a panic, she saw one of the guards cuffing his hands behind him while the other followed her and Merrick. Unable to break free from of Merrick's grasp, she shouted desperately to Piers as she was dragged out the door, "I'll fix this, Piers! I promise! I'll fix this!"

Deep in her gut, she felt as if she'd just lied to him, unable to know if this was a problem she could fix at all.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **_**Honestly, I don't know how I can write chapters this fast. If I have something in my head, I have to write it or it will bug me all day long. Half the time I'm just outlining what I want to happen and the dialogue I want to include while on break at work lol**_

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Since pulling the confused woman from the room, Merrick's grip on Riley's wrist hadn't loosened and he proceeded to take her to the elevator while the guard in the room with Piers restrained him. She still couldn't believe that her boss had forged the soldier's signature. Sure, he was an ass, that was common knowledge, but to do something so terrible as to force someone to be a test subject?

Her throat constricted when she recalled Piers' expression when Merrick read the "new and improved" form, how he snatched it out of her hand. A paper cut wasn't something terrible, but her hand still stung. What stung most, however, was the look of betrayal that was aimed at her for the fraction of a second. The look passed so quickly, but it had been there, and it had stung far more sharply than any paper cut. To think that he might believe to some degree that she'd betrayed him in some way… that hurt. There was no way for her to see into his mind and get a glimpse of what was going through the soldier's mind, but she knew his thoughts had to be as furious as a raging storm.

"Where are you taking me?" Riley demanded, voice trembling fearfully.

"To my office," Merrick replied when they stepped into the elevator, and he put in his pass-code into the keypad.

Staring at him, she gulped.

His office was in sub-level three, and she'd not once been permitted down there.

Only Merrick, his private security, and the few scientists with proper security clearance were allowed down there. He'd been so insistent that she was not, under any circumstances, allowed to even think about going down there. And now here he was, casually taking her down to sub-level three as though she'd gone down with him regularly. Any other time, she might have been a bit excited to go down there and get some answers, but with the current events causing her boss to take her there, her fear rose immensely.

The elevator doors opened to a long hallway lined with floor to ceiling glass windows on each side, separating the labs from the hallways but allowing them to see what was going on.

In the large lab to her left, there were tanks holding various creatures, likely the end results of viruses, and to her right, there were scientists dissecting the corpses of creatures and humans alike. It was likely that the more human looking test subjects had been infected, but they still looked human and the sight made Riley ill, and everything that was going on around her as they walked down the grey hallway was creeping her out.

Not one of the scientists and security officers acknowledged their presence, remaining almost obsessive about doing their work. The guards stood perfectly still at their posts while a few made their rounds walking down the halls, and the scientists moved like zombies, silently going about their work and walking around each other. The only time she saw a scientist's lips move was when one approached another and handed off some documents. On other levels, scientists, doctors, and security officers talked to each other, they said hello when passing, or they nodded in acknowledgement to the presence of another. Even when neck deep in work, she talked to fellow scientists. To just go about the day without speaking to coworkers was strange.

As she stared at one of the scientists working, she frowned after spotting a reddish glow emitting through the white blouse on the woman's chest. She turned before she could get a good look, but she'd definitely seen something.

"I'll take it from here," said a woman, and Riley looked behind her to find a tall woman – probably only a few inches or so shorter than Piers – around her age in black combat boots, cargo pants, a black tank top, a black leather jacket, and attached to each thigh was a holster carrying a desert eagle handgun. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight braid and her grey eyes were as cold as steel. She looked tough to say the least.

The guard walking behind them nodded, allowing the woman to take his place without question. Clearly, this woman held some authority if the guard jumped not only at Merrick's command, but at hers as well.

The three rounded a corner and entered a corridor that was significantly darker than the hallway entering the level had been, and the entire left wall was made up of equally spaced steel doors with a small barred viewing window on each door. Sounds came from a few of the rooms – groans, growling, and snarling mostly – that caused the hairs on Riley's neck to stand on end, but when something big rammed into the steel door closest to Merrick's office door with a fierce human-like roar, she damn near jumped out of her skin, trying to tug free from the man's grip so that she could move away from the cell that held whatever had made that sound.

Merrick and the woman chuckled, finding her reaction amusing.

"Don't worry, doc, he's all bark and no bite," the woman said, giving her a rough shove to get her moving again. "That is until we let him off his leash. He knows who his masters are, but he does get quite vicious when he's hungry."

Riley shuddered at the thought of what that thing in that cell could do and she prayed she would never see it.

Merrick looked back at the woman briefly, smiling in amusement. "Come now, Jessica. You're frightening Dr. Conway."

The way these two acted about her fear only terrified her more.

They reached the head virologist's office door, and upon stepping inside, Riley had to wonder if she'd stepped into the office of a government official or something. There was lush dark red carpeting, rich brown walls, a black leather sofa against one wall with a fancy glass coffee table in front of it, bookshelves lined the opposite wall with what had to be hundreds of files and books, the desk at the far wall across from the door looked to be made of an expensive dark wood – mahogany, perhaps – and a plush desk chair was on either side of the desk.

Only when the door shut behind her did Merrick release her arm.

Extending his arm towards the chair across from his at his desk as he sat down, he said, "Please, have a seat."

Riley hesitated a second too long and promptly found herself shoved into the chair by Jessica.

"Would you like some coffee, Dr. Conway?" he asked politely.

Not about to accept anything to eat or drink from him, she just shook her head.

"Very well," he sighed, leaning forward in his chair with his fingers interlaced on his desk. "I'm sure you have a great many questions – I would too, were I in your position. I assure you, I will answer them all once I'm certain your loyalty is to me."

"Loyalty?" she repeated incredulously. "You're torturing your patients and forcing them to be specimens for your sick experiments! And now you want to do the same thing to Piers? What in God's name makes you think I'll be loyal to you?"

"Did you know that I have two children, Dr. Conway? Twins?"

She stared at him. "Excuse me?"

What did children have to do with what was going on?

"They're a bit younger than you – only twenty-three – but they are incredibly intelligent. They were so very willing and excited to help me with my endeavors, and they eagerly allowed themselves to be altered in order to handle the dirty work for me. You've already met my daughter, Jessica," he said, smiling lovingly at his daughter who stood guard behind Riley. "She agreed to be the host for the dominant-strain Plaga that I acquired – altered and modified by myself –and has bonded beautifully with it on a cellular level in a way unlike anything I've ever seen. If she mutates, it is because she wills it, and she can just as easily mutate back to her human form. She truly has become a goddess among the human race."

Cautiously, Riley looked over her shoulder at Jessica. She was smiling brightly at the praise bestowed upon her by her father, and she recognized that smile – it was one of complete trust and love, a smile she'd given her own father quite often. Despite the love between a father and daughter, she couldn't fathom what the woman had been thinking by allowing herself to become a host for the Plaga, modified dominant-strain or not! It was madness!

"Her brother, however, wasn't as lucky," he continued. "I managed to isolate the characteristics of the T-Virus that causes one to mutate into a Tyrant, and then attempted to alter it into a manageable mutation prior to injecting Paul – my son – with it, but it was a failure. He became something stuck between human and Tyrant, and lost all of who he was. He became the creature that caused you to jump when you passed its cell. He is still quite loyal, however, and follows the orders of his kin without question, especially the orders of his sister. The bond they share as twins is amazing."

"You…" Riley licked her dry lips, shaking her head in disbelief. "You turned your son into a monster? Why? Why would you do that? Why would you risk the same happening to your daughter?" she demanded angrily.

Merrick rolled his eyes. "They were well aware of the risk, I assure you. As I said, they are very intelligent and were able to understand the science behind the experiments they would take part in. Jessica helped me modify the Plaga, in fact," he explained coolly. "You see, every member of my family is quite smart, genetically gifted, I suppose you could say. But my cousin…" he trailed off, looking at a photo on his desk in awe. "She was the most gifted of my family. She finished her doctorate in genetics when she was merely fifteen. Such a remarkable girl, but rather distant and obsessive given that my aunt and uncle – her parents – were murdered in front of her during a home invasion when she was seven. She thought the entire world was evil after that, but I gave her the proper guidance when she came under the custody of my parents when I was sixteen, and continued to guide her even after I moved out. My parent's helped her come out of her shell, and I helped her hone her hatred for the world after taking her in after she finished her doctorate. When she was a little older, her intelligence caught the attention of Derek Simmons, and he quickly hired her to aid him in creating a large variety of B.O.W's and aid him in his own personal experiments, and she eventually came to create the C-Virus. I was incredibly proud when I learned of this, and am positive my parents would have been proud as well, were they still alive. My family has worked with Simmons' Family for generations, and I knew him quite well so I had nothing to fear. I was certain that my cousin would be safe with him."

It was all so hard to take in. The C-Virus was created by Merrick's cousin, and they'd worked with Simmons. But who was his cousin anyways? The individual who created the virus was supposedly the founder of Neo-Umbrella. Wasn't that Ada Wong? She was so confused.

Features hardening, a scowl on his face, Merrick continued, "Unfortunately, my trust in Simmons was misplaced, as my dear Carla failed to respond to my phone calls. Simmons informed me that there was an accident in one of his labs and claimed that she'd been killed, but I knew better. She was always so careful, so precise. I knew that he'd done something to her. I used my resources and contacts, and learned that, against her will, he'd used Carla as a test subject in order to have her reborn in the image of Ada Wong, a woman that he'd been obsessed with for years, and her mind became his to mold." His knuckles turned white from how hard he was clasping his hands. "I said nothing, did not voice my knowledge of what had transpired, but I vowed that one day he and his Family would fall. And that day came in late two-thousand-nine when Carla began to regain her memories. She didn't remember that I was her cousin, but she did remember that I was someone she could trust completely. Together, she and I created Neo-Umbrella to not only remove Simmons and the Family from the world, but to create a new world where we, the strongest minds, are held high and regarded as gods. The Family seeks to control the world from behind the scenes, and Wesker was a fool who sought to destroy the world and leave it in ruins, but I understand that by blending the two views with my own, I can be unstoppable. People as intelligent as myself, my daughter, and you can control the world bend it to our will."

Riley wanted to yell at him, to tell him to shut up, and to get up and run from him and his demented thoughts. He'd created Neo-Umbrella with the help of Carla whatever-her-last-name-is, and thought the idea of using some of _Wesker's _ideas and views was a good idea? He was positively insane, and if he thought she was going to go along with his plan, he was beyond insane. Even so, she couldn't will her body to react to her thoughts, couldn't scream or run. All she could do was sit there with wide eyes in a state of shock.

"Carla, however, did not share the same vision as I and sought to bring unimaginable chaos to the world with no end and rule as a queen with her abominations," he went on, loving the sound of his own voice. "Pure chaos was the start of our plan, yes, as was the creation of abominations, but for a price and unquestionable loyalty to me and my vision, a cure would be offered to a select few once we started to reshape the world after the chaos takes hold. But when she found Jake Muller she failed to forward me the information regarding his blood and thus put my plans on hold. My cousin was truly gone at that point, I realized, poisoned by her desire for revenge." Reaching for the frame, he turned it face down on the table, seemingly disgusted by the image of his cousin. "I allowed her to continue her work at our facility in China, I allowed her to infect Lanshiang as planned, but I had been keeping tabs on her and after I received confirmation from an informant that she'd activated the timer for the C-Virus warhead I promptly informed the Family of her whereabouts and Simmons' involvement. Shortly after, she was shot and killed, and Simmons was left on his own, abandoned by the Family. Her usefulness had come to an end, and I no longer needed her assistance."

She stared at him in disbelief that he would allow his cousin, his kin, to be killed. But slowly, she started to come out of her shock as everything he said sank in, and she came to a chilling conclusion.

Finding her voice, no matter how quiet it was at the moment, she questioned, "You've never really been working for the B.S.A.A, have you? You just… inserted yourself so you could poison it from the inside out while you used the resources and authority it gave you."

He regarded her words for a moment before he nodded. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

Her heart pounded so hard in her ears that the sound blocked out almost all other sounds, and was soon replaced by a ringing as she started to feel the effects of a panic attack coming on. What scared her the most about everything he said, was that he'd revealed so much to her. If she said anything to the right people, he would be done, which left her to wonder why he'd told her at all.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" she asked quietly, her voice shaking with unhidden fear, and she felt her body starting to shake.

Standing, Merrick braced his hands on his desk and leaned menacingly towards her, and replied, "I want you to have an idea of my goals, and to what lengths I am willing to go to in order to reach them. My children are not expendable. Despite the monster my son has become, I refuse to end his existence, and Jessica is my most precious jewel. But Carla was merely my cousin. Blood, she may have been, but she was no child of mine and I hadn't a second thought about leaking information to the Family that would see to her killed. _You _are just a woman working for me with great potential. You are too valuable to kill right now, but make no mistake – should you choose poorly in the coming minutes, death will be the least of your concerns. I do have methods of which I utilize to control others."

"Methods?"

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked one of the drawers on his desk, retrieving a chest from it. Unlocking the latches that kept it shut, he carefully reached inside and, with a click, removed a fist sized device with a glowing red body and six sharp metal legs.

Riley recognized it immediately from Chris' description and her jaw dropped in terror. "That's the device Chris removed from Jill's chest!"

"Very, Dr. Conway," he confirmed, watching the bug-like device's legs flail around in an attempt to get a hold of something. "A fool, Wesker may have been, but he was quite the genius. After I got my hands on the schismatics for the device that had been on Valentine, I reconstructed it down here and altered the drug that would be injected into the individual it latched on to. I tested it on one of my scientists to see if it would work, and it did with flying colors, so I had them mass produced and placed on all those who I saw fit to be controlled. The effects of the drug are blind obedience to the who's blood is infused with the drug – mine and my daughters – and minor regenerative capabilities and high pain tolerance that has proved useful for my private security and the soldiers for Neo-Umbrella. The devices have been very useful with the U.S Board, as well."

"No wonder you have such a pull on the Board," she started, everything finally coming together – how he could easily cause someone to lose their job, how he hadn't been caught. "You've been controlling them for God-knows-how-long."

He nodded. "I've ensured that no one is the wiser by sending the SOA and SOU on the appropriate missions, as well as to send scientists away on occasion, but it's nearing the time to launch my plan completely."

"And your plan is?" If she could just get him to tell her what exactly he was going to do and when, she could warn Chris and spread the warning to others.

But Merrick was too smart to reveal that much. He smiled knowingly at her, and said, "Now, that would be telling, and I'd rather not spoil the surprise too much. What I will say is that the world is due for a plague or two."

"Why are you telling me _anything_?" she demanded, wanting to know what he had planned for her and what he was going to do. "I haven't promised you my loyalty or anything. For all you know, I could run out onto the street and start screaming that you're now in control of Neo-Umbrella."

He said nothing for a moment, choosing instead to sift through some papers whilst still holding onto the flailing device. Finding what he was looking for, he said, "I looked over your Edonia report and the reports of your fellow scientists, and it appears that you crossed paths with Alpha Team on occasion, with Piers Nivans, to be specific. From what I witnessed yesterday and what nearly occurred a short while ago, it would seem that the two of you are very close."

Nothing came out of her mouth for a long moment, and she felt her cheeks heat up in a panic. She wouldn't say that they were very close, but the attraction was there, and Merrick was undoubtedly trying to exploit it. But had he really seen the hug yesterday, or was he just speculating that something had happened? Considering he'd obviously seen her and Piers come so close to kissing, she wasn't going to attempt to deny the hug.

"We, uh, we encountered each other in Edonia, yes, and Captain Redfield is his CO and a friend of mine, but I'd hardly say that Piers and I are close," she argued, trying to mask the attraction for both her sake and Piers. "He's an acquaintance at best, as well as my patient. Yesterday, our emotions were running a little high considering how exhausted we both were, so he hugged me. Today we just got caught in the moment. Simple as that."

The excuse sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

"Whatever your reasoning," he started, obviously not believing her. "You cared enough to warn him about what a drug derived from his infected blood would do." She opened her mouth to explain herself, but he raised a hand, silencing her. "I am not going to scold you. I am going to make you an offer."

She eyed him warily. "What kind of offer?"

"You already know enough about me to be a great threat, and that leaves you with only two options," he informed her, revealing that he'd told her what he had in order to back her into a corner with few ways out. "The first option is more in your favor as well as Nivans', and it is that you agree to do whatever I request and dedicate yourself to Neo-Umbrella. If I tell you to infect others, you will infect others. If I demand that you aid me in engineering a new virus, you will aid me without question. In return, you will never be harmed and will have the entire force of Neo-Umbrella looking out for your safety, and Nivans will not be put through the drastic experiments that I'd previously had planned for him. Mind you, he will be re-infected upon being taken to the facility Carla left me, but once I've created a drug from his infected blood, he will immediately be cured. He won't be permitted to leave, considering he would be a risk to Neo-Umbrella, but I assure you that no harm will come to him once he's cured again and he will be quite comfortable."

Not for a second did she believe him, and never would she work for Neo-Umbrella, so she swallowed and asked, "And if I refuse?"

He sighed, and nodded towards his daughter. "Jessica, if you would be so kind?"

Before Riley could comprehend the action, Jessica grabbed her arms and yanked them back behind the chair to the point of breaking, and she yelped in pain, struggling against the woman's hold.

Merrick walked around his desk and, to her horror, brought the vicious device perilously close to her chest to the point where she could just barely feel the sharp serrated legs touching the skin that was bare due to her V-neck. Instinctively, she tried to retreat backwards and disappear into the chair and pull free from Jessica, but she was effectively trapped.

Looking her dead in the eyes coldly, he said, "If you refuse, I will run experiments on Nivans as I see fit. It will be terribly painful for him, and he will not be cured again. But as for you, your mind is too valuable to lose, and though I would prefer a willing servant, I can make due with a mindless slave." To emphasis his willingness to take her free will away from her, he placed the cruel device against her chest.

A high pitched scream tore from her throat and she thrashed about in the chair as the serrated feet of the devices legs embedded deep into the flesh of her chest. Merrick was keeping its body a hairs width away from her, and thus keeping it from injecting her with the needle in the center of its glowing body. That didn't stop it from trying viciously to draw itself out of his hand, and it removed its legs to claw at her skin before embedding its legs in her chest once again, causing blood to trickle down between her breasts from the various deep wounds where both her black bra and purple shirt soaked up the blood.

More than anything she didn't want to work for Neo-Umbrella, but she didn't want to be a mindless husk either. And the pain was so bad that tears fell from her eyes while another scream rose from her. Unable to stand much more, she shouted, "All right! All right! Just, please, please, don't!"

Immediately, he tore the legs of the device from her chest, a sharp yelp escaping her lips, and she fell limply back against the chair while Jessica released her aching arms. Noticing the sticky blood flowing from her wounds, she brought her shaking hands up to stop the bleeding. It wasn't serious, but still, she wanted to stop the flow of blood.

"I trust you've made your decision?" Merrick pressed, wanting to hear her say it.

Sniffling, dizzy with pain and panicked anxiety, she said shakily, "I-I'll do whatever you want."

It was the biggest lie she ever told, but by far the most convincing.

Merrick seemed pleased with her answer and returned the wretched device back to its chest and locked it in the desk. "You made the right decision, Dr. Conway," he assured her in a fatherly tone. "Now, I've already arranged for Nivans to be transported to my private airstrip where he will be taken to my facility in China, but to assure me that you will in deed do as I say, I want you to accompany him there and the moment you're in the facility, you are to infect him with the modified C-Virus and keep him sedated until my arrival, at which point we will work together in running tests on him. If for one second I believe that you have betrayed me, I will make life difficult for both you and Nivans, and that device will be permanently hooked to your chest. Do I make myself clear?"

Tearfully, she nodded.

"Good. A B.S.A.A armored vehicle will be ready and waiting to transport you, Nivans, and two of my guards to the airstrip in two hours. Be ready to leave. Dismissed."

Her whole body shaking, Riley hastily got out of the chair and practically ran from the office and back to the elevator. Once inside, she pressed the button for sub-level two, but the moment it started rising, she pressed the red button that brought it to an abrupt stop, a bell ringing in emergency.

Sliding down the wall, she brought her knees to her bleeding chest and sobbed, the shock, pain, and fear finally spilling over the edge. It was like a nightmare, and it killed her to think that she'd been working for a monster all these years, and she dared not think about what he did with the things she'd given him. How many lives had been ruined because of her actions? Sure, she'd unknowingly helped him by giving him the information and sample he asked from her when she went on an assignment, but it was still her fault to some degree.

And Piers… God, what was going to happen to him?

She couldn't betray him and re-infect him, and she couldn't allow Merrick to experiment on him, but she wasn't a soldier or even a fighter. The most she knew about a gun was where the trigger was and where the bullet shot out from, and the most hand-to-hand fighting she knew revolved around slapping and pathetic punches! Against his private security with their enhanced abilities and blind devotion, against Jessica, she would be laughably useless.

Dropping her head to her knees, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, a wave of despair falling over her. Nothing she did could get her and Piers out of this mess.

"Hey, doc, everything all right in there?" Dwayne's concerned voice asked from the intercom, and the camera in the corner of the elevator moved in her direction. "Riley, can you hear me? I saw that the elevator was brought to an emergency stop on its way up to sub-level two. Are you all right? You look hurt."

And just like that, a light bulb turned on in her head and a flicker of hope filtered into her chest.

"Dwayne, is anyone else around you?" she asked, rising to her wobbly legs and wiping her eyes.

"No, they're all out on break, I'm just waiting for them to get back. Why?" The camera zoomed in and he asked, "Are you bleeding?"

"Yeah, but it isn't serious," she assured him. Bracing her hands against the wall, she took a deep breath and said, "I need your help."

"Sure, what do you need?"

Hastily, she explained everything to him in excruciating detail, then proceeded to describe her plan to him once he ceased his vulgar swearing and voiced his murderous thoughts in regards to Merrick. He called her crazy, but promised to round up the officers he trusted the most in order to pull off her crazy plan.

If she was going to do this, she would need Dwayne's help and the help of the officers he trusted most. It was the only chance she and Piers would ever have to get away.

* * *

_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	9. Chapter 9

The seconds that slowly ticked by felt like hours, and all Piers could do was sit on the floor with his hands cuffed behind his back, the small chain of the cuffs looped around one of the bars of the bed, keeping him where he was. Every so often he would experimentally tug on the cuffs, and would receive no give and a hard stare from the guard who had yet to leave the room. His head fell back against the side of the bed and he sighed, staring at the wall in front of him.

The hope that had been given to him by Riley vanished when Merrick read the form on which he'd forged his signature. Rumors about the man had spread through the entire BSAA but it had all been wild speculation based around his poor personality. None of the rumors had been proven, but Piers realized that they were all likely true. There was no knowing what kind of experiments he had planned for him. The new form was very vague and left the door wide open for any sadistic experiments the doctor had in mind. All he knew for certain was that he was going to be re-infected with the modified C-Virus that he'd finally been cured of. Other than that, he was in the dark. And in the darkest shadows surrounding what was going on, was Riley.

For a moment, he'd believed that maybe, just maybe, Riley had known about the forgery all along, but when he looked at her face as she skimmed through the form, when he saw the disbelief on her face, he knew that she knew nothing about it. That didn't stop him from grabbing the paper from her after she confirmed that it was wrong to read it for himself.

Everything else happened incredibly fast after that.

His control on his anger slipped, causing him to have the butt of an assault rifle rammed into his gut while the other guard cuffed him, and Riley was dragged out of the room by Merrick. In a flash he'd gone from elated to pissed, and he was incredibly worried about Riley's well-being. She'd admitted to being afraid of her boss, and he was willing to bet that the head virologist knew that she was afraid of him and would use that against her.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, he looked back at the clock and saw that roughly an hour had passed since she was dragged from the room, promising that she'd fix what was going on. He hoped she was all right and that nothing bad had happened to her, but with each passing second he feared the worst. And as for her promise? He didn't think this was a promise she could keep.

So much for being cured and going back to work, back to his life.

Looking over at the guard standing perfectly still, he asked, "Ever think about taking a break?"

The guard didn't blink.

He snorted, shaking his head. The way these guys acted was incredibly strange. J'avo had more personality.

Sometime later, the door opened, drawing his attention, and his eyes widened a fraction.

"Riley?" he started, staring at her, surprised and wary.

She glanced at him before quickly diverting her gaze back to the guard standing in front of her. "I came to give him a sedative. It should make the travel less complicated," she explained the guard.

Piers frowned.

A sedative? Did that mean that she was siding with Merrick? He couldn't believe that, didn't want to believe that! After what she did for the soldiers and the infected in Edonia, after her promises to help him, after the short time they spent just talking to each other, he would have thought she wouldn't bend over for her boss and go along with his obviously illegal activities with viruses, let alone betray the trust he had for her. She hadn't seemed like that kind of person, and that certainly wasn't the woman he was attracted to. Then again, they didn't know each other all that well. Even if he combined the time he spent occasionally chatting with her in Edonia and the time he'd spent in the quarantine room with her, the time wouldn't even add up to two weeks. But with how often Chris talked about her along with Jill and Claire, he felt like he'd known her for a long time.

Seeing her now, syringe in hand, it occurred to him that he might not know her at all.

"Dr. Merrick didn't inform me that he was sending you to give Nivans a sedative," the guard replied, speaking for the first time.

"Well, um, that's because the sedative is my idea."

The guard stared at her. "I need confirmation from Dr. Merrick."

Riley sighed, shaking nervously, and argued, "I'm going to be the one traveling with him, and... and I would prefer him to be out cold and not cause me any problems. Is it really necessary to bother Merrick over something as simple as a damn sedative? I'm not running tests on him, just knocking him out."

Merrick's guard was silent for a long moment while Riley worried on her lower lip, before he finally stepped to the side and allowed her to come inside.

"Thank you," she sighed in relief, walking inside and closing the door behind her.

Now that she was fully inside and walking towards him, he could clearly see six small bandages on her chest and a series of longer bandages over what looked like punctures and scratches, there were a few tears in the V of her purple shirt, and there were blood stains at the bottom of the V. Not only that, but her eyes were pink and puffy like she'd been crying.

"What happened?" he asked in concern as she put on some gloves.

Maybe working with Merrick in his illegal activities wasn't her choice.

Refusing to look at him, she just shrugged. "Nothing."

"That doesn't look like nothing. Did he hurt you?"

She worried on her lower lip and he saw moister fill her eyes, but no tears fell down her cheeks.

Rather than reply to his question, she said apologetically, albeit with a nervous tremor, "Merrick's arranged for you to be taken to his facility in China where he will continue his testing on your blood once you're re-infected. Once he and I have finished, you'll be cured. I'll be traveling there with you and will personally make sure that nothing overly terrible happens to you."

"Overly terrible?" he repeated incredulously, his eyes widening further in disbelief. "You're actually going along with him? What about what you said earlier, huh? What about your adamant refusal to hurt people by exposing them to viruses?"

"Sometimes…" she trailed off, and glanced quickly at the clock, waiting a few seconds before she continued. "Sometimes you need to do things you don't necessarily want to do in order to get by." Again, she paused and looked back at the guard, finding him to be staring at her. "Merrick made me an offer I couldn't refuse. He's an... amazing man and can take my career to new heights. With him, I can succeed."

Piers gaped at her, more confused than ever. That didn't sound like her at all, and with how she kept looking at the clock and at the guard, it was as if she were waiting for something and speaking so highly of Merrick for the benefit of the guard.

"All right, this should have you sleeping comfortably," Riley said after looking at the clock again, filling a syringe to the rim with a clear liquid. Looking back at the guard, she asked, "Uh, can you give me a hand, please?"

He stepped forward, waiting for her to instruct him on what to do. In the hour that had passed, Merrick must have radioed his officers and informed them that she was now on his side.

Kneeling on the ground in front of him, she instructed the guard to do the same. When he did, she said, "Put your hand on his shoulder to keep him where he is, and do not take your eyes off of him. I don't want to do any harm to him if he decides to put up a fight." Just as she leaned in to stick him in the arm with the needle, she remembered something and sighed. "Damn it, I forgot to swab the spot. Don't take your eyes off him. I'll be just a second."

The guard nodded, watching him with unblinking eyes as she stood and walked behind the guard. But rather than going to the counter to retrieve some alcohol, she stared at the mirror and quickly nodded.

The young man cocked his head in confusion, but kept his mouth shut when she turned back to him and shook her head. He didn't know what she had up her sleeve, but he let a withdrawn expression fall over his face, and just in case the guard thought something was up, he struggled a bit for show.

The guard slammed him back against the side of the bed forcefully, keeping him in place, and was completely unaware to Riley moving up behind him.

Constantly looking at the mirror, she worried her lower lip and moved the syringe restlessly in her hands until she was directly behind the guard. She stared at the armed man for a second, and then quickly jammed the syringe into his neck, injecting the fluid.

Shouting, yanking the syringe from his neck, the guard swung his arm and caught Riley in the side, sending her spiraling to the floor with the air knocked from her lungs. She crawled back towards the wall as he advanced on her, wobbling from the effects of the sedative, and Piers yanked against the too tight cuffs on his wrists, struggling to get to her and help.

The door swung open at that moment, and two armed men hurried in.

For a terrifying second, he feared that they were with Merrick, but that thought vanished when the older man – a black man he recognized as the veteran Marine who was the chief of security – rushed towards the guard and grabbed him in a tight headlock, preventing him from calling for backup and quickening his fall into unconscious. The other officer was beside Piers in an instant with the universal key for the cuffs used in the U.S BSAA HQ.

Once the guard was out and on the floor, Dwayne helped Riley to her feet. "You all right, doc?"

She nodded, moving over to Piers as he got to his feet and rubbed his sore wrists.

"All that talk was just bullshit?" he asked.

"Yeah, I didn't want him thinking I was planning something against Merrick. Guess it worked," she replied, looking down at the unconscious man.

Piers was so incredibly relieved that Riley had not betrayed him or her beliefs for Merrick, and could have kissed her then and there. But now wasn't the time and he still didn't have a clue about what was going on. "Anyone want to fill me in on what's up?"

"We're getting out of here," Riley explained, taking off her gloves and running her fingers through her hair. "Dwayne and O'Connor are going to act as officers in Merrick's private security while the others work on keeping the loop on the cameras playing. They'll escort us to the armored vehicle waiting for us that some other officers have commandeered from Merrick's goons. We'll then ditch the vehicle and meet Chris and Jill at down in Stanton Park. At least that's the plan Chris, Jill, Dwayne, and I came up with."

"That's if your crazy plan of just waltzing on outta here works out," Dwayne pointed out.

The young sniper wasn't exactly confident with the plan considering it sounded as though it had been thrown together at the last minute. Granted he had heard worse plans, but he'd also heard a lot better ones.

"Why not just go to the Board and let them know what's going on?" he asked.

"Because Merrick's running Neo-Umbrella," she replied while Dwayne and O'Conner dragged in the unconscious body of another guard and proceeded to put on some of their equipment in order to blend in. "Turns out he's using the type of device Wesker had planted on Jill's chest to control his private security, his scientists, and the U.S Board."

The information angered him but he was not overly surprised. The Board had been acting strangely and reclusive for the past three years, around the time Chris killed Wesker. As for the blindly obedient guards, that made a little more sense. What was surprising was that he'd managed to keep his activities a secret for so long.

"Any idea what he's planning to do?"

She nodded, shifting anxiously from foot to foot, and said, "Yeah, he–"

"No offense, guys," interrupted Dwayne, pulling the ski mask that some of the other private security officers wore down over his head while his buddy did the same. "But can you talk about this once we're on our way to the rendezvous point?"

"Right, sorry."

Once he and his fellow officer looked the part of one of Merrick's men, Dwayne took the cuffs from O'Connor and approached Piers. "Hate to say it, but you're going to have to put these back on 'till we're in the clear or until the shit hits the fan. Don't want anyone to expect something," he explained, stepping behind him.

Piers grumbled under his breath but complied, putting his hands behind his back so he could be cuffed again. Being restrained wasn't exactly something he thought was a good idea, nor did he like the idea of running from the BSAA, but until they were safe and could contact the main Board in the U.N this was grudgingly necessary.

Retrieving her lab coat from where it had been left on the chair, Riley put it on, visibly shaking and blinking a lot. She wasn't a soldier, she was a scientist. This wasn't what she signed on for, and she was terrified.

"Hey," Piers said to get her attention, and she jumped slightly. "This was your plan, right?"

"Yes, but, the others helped with –"

"I didn't ask who helped you with this plan, I asked if this was overall _your _plan," he corrected firmly, a bit sharply, and she looked at the ground at his tone. "So, I'll ask again. Is this your plan?"

O'Connor didn't appear to like the tone he was using on her, but Dwayne raised his hand slightly, indicating for the younger officer to keep out of it. The security chief was a Marine veteran – he understood why he was talking to her the way he was.

What he wanted to do was comfort her, reassure her that her plan, as crazy and unpolished as it was, would work, but he couldn't do that right now. She needed to know that this was serious and that she had to take responsibility for the plan and show some leadership. Most of all, she had to have faith in her plan and stop shaking. So he spoke in the tone he'd used on Finn more than once when the rookie needed to get his act together.

Riley swallowed, staring at him with wide green eyes, and nodded. "Yes, it's… it's my plan."

"Then suck it up, take a breath, and act like you think this is going to work," he ordered tightly.

She looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights, taken aback by his tone, but even though he wanted to add something more comforting, more gentle, he didn't. That wasn't what she needed right now.

After a few more seconds of staring, she swallowed again and nodded, taking several deep breaths. She was still shaking, but it wasn't as noticeable as before.

"All right… let's go," she said, working hard to keep her voice steady.

Dwayne gave her a nod. "Lead the way, doc."

Taking one more deep breath, she walked out into the hallway.

O'Connor held onto Piers' arm while the chief walked beside Riley, watching out for her well-being. The older man acted like he cared about her a great deal, so he had faith that the veteran would keep her safe on the way out of HQ.

Reaching the desk, the officers there gave them all a wink and let them into the elevator without any questions, obviously in on the plan.

The ride on the elevator was tense, and Riley was sweating nervously, but she hastily wiped her forehead and took some deep breaths, determined to keep calm and do as she was told.

Piers silently praised her for her effort. As nervous as she was, she was doing good so far. All she needed to do was keep it together a bit longer.

The elevator opened at the first floor, and Cynthia looked up from her computer, a look of confusion spreading over her face.

"Dr. Conway. What's all this about?" she asked, looking at the masked officers and Piers, not in the loop.

The virologist hesitated momentarily before gathering her wits, and replied, "Dr. Merrick is transferring Piers to a more secured facility. The infection hasn't quite been, uh, been eradicated from his body yet. We need some place more secure and safe."

The secretary bought her lie and scooted her chair back away from them fearfully.

"Don't worry, Cynthia," she assured her. "You won't catch anything."

"Yeah, sure," she muttered, watching Piers like he was a leper. They proceeded to walk down the hall when the phone on Cynthia's desk started ringing. "Hello?...Yes, sir, I believe they just walked by, though your officers all look the same with their masks…No, they just came off the elevator. They're escorting Dr. Conway and her patient to another facility, just as you requested…"

Riley tensed and her step faltered, but Dwayne hissed, "Keep moving, act like you hear nothing!"

They'd been had, that much was obvious, and the young officer stepped behind Piers to unlock his handcuffs so that he could run and fight when they had to. If they could just get a little farther...

"But she said…" Cynthia continued, voice rising in pitch. "I didn't know, Sir! I… of course, right away!" Hanging up the phone, she pressed the button under her desk and alarms flared to life, a loud blaring ringing out through the building and red lights flashing on the ceiling.

"Go, run!" Dwayne ordered, handing off a handgun to Piers.

The four broke out into a run, Riley keeping up fairly well despite her heels. They didn't have far to go to get to the garage where the vehicle would be waiting, but they couldn't risk slowing down for a second. Not only would the alarms put Merrick's security force on their ass, but they would also be chased by any BSAA soldiers in the building, good guys and bad alike, all because of terrible timing and that damn alarm.

Just as they were about to pass a crossroads of hallways, the exit to the garage down the hallway straight ahead, bullets flew passed their heads from behind them.

Acting on instinct, Piers hooked his arm tightly around Riley's waist and pulled her into a vacant hallway to their left, pinning her to the wall with his larger frame to shield her against the onslaught of bullets that hit the corner of the wall.

"Were you hit?" he asked, looking her over quickly.

Shell shocked, she shook her head.

Checking the chamber of the handgun, he pressed his back to the walled and looked to Dwayne and O'Connor taking cover in the opposite hallway, yanking the ski masks from their heads. From the looks of it, the younger officer had been nicked in the arm.

He cautiously peered around the corner, and muttered an oath under his breath. Not only had Merrick's men showed up to confront them, but a few soldiers had arrived from another hallway to join the fight. Who had fired first was unknown to him, but he suspected that it was one of the private security officers. Gunfire rained down on him and he quickly retreated back behind the wall, not wanting to return fire. Merrick's men were one thing, but he didn't want to shoot a fellow soldier who was reacting to an armed threat.

"Is there a plan B?" he asked Riley, frowning when she shook her head. Looking to the men pinned down in the other hallway, he called, "What about you, Forest. You got a plan B?"

Dwayne spoke to his buddy quickly, back pressed to the wall. He then pulled a few clips for the handgun he'd give Piers from his vest and kicked each one over to him. "Yeah. Plan B is you get her out of here while me and O'Connor hold these guys off and give you some cover fire."

"What?" Riley screeched while Piers picked up the ammo, stuffing the clips in his pockets. "No, we're getting out of here together! That was the plan!"

"Plan's changed, doc, sorry," he replied looking at her sorrowfully.

"No! I'm not leaving you here!" she shouted, and pushed off the wall to run across the hallway to him.

"Riley!" Piers grabbed her around the waist before she could get shot, holding on tight as she fought against him.

"Get her out of here, Nivans!" Dwayne shouted, readying his assault rifle.

No one was expendable, and he didn't leave people behind, but in this case, he didn't see any other option. Without cover fire, they wouldn't make it to the door. With great reluctance, he nodded to the other man and waited for his signal.

Ticking down the time with his fingers, the chief of security then shouted, "Go!"

The word just left his mouth as he and O'Connor moved out of cover, opening firing on both Merrick's men and the soldiers, darting across to the other hallway while Piers hauled the woman to the exit.

"No!" she shouted, fighting him the whole way. "We can't leave him!"

"We don't have a choice!" he shouted right back, forcing her to duck with him to avoid being shot.

She didn't like that at all, and he had to literally shove her through the door, causing her to fall to the ground before slamming it shut behind him. Again, he had to grab her in order to keep her from running back. He understood her reluctance, but she was being suicidal.

"Listen to me!" he yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders, giving her a shake. "You go in there, you're dead! He's staying behind to make sure that we get out – that _you_ get out!"

"But –"

"No, we go or we throw everything away! Do you get that?" he demanded, giving her another rough shake.

Tears running freely down her cheeks, she shut her eyes in resignation and nodded.

That was all the answer he needed and he took her hand in his, running across the parking garage to the armored vehicle waiting, only to find it being swarmed by Merrick's men and a woman with braided back hair, the officers helping them lying dead on the ground. The maniac must have expected a betrayal, if the speed at which they're plan had been foiled was any clue.

Before they could be seen, he ducked down behind a car, pulling Riley down with him.

Looking at the armed enemy ahead of them, she whispered, "That woman is Merrick's daughter, Jessica. She's infected with the Plaga – willingly."

So sadistic insanity ran in the family. That was just fantastic.

With the armored vehicle obviously out of the equation, Piers looked around for another means of escape. He could hot-wire a car, but that might take too long and draw too much attention.

"Do you have your car keys?"

"Yeah, yeah, right here," she replied quietly, retrieving her keys from her lab coat pocket and handing them to him. "I'm parked right over there. The jeep."

He followed where she was pointing and spotted the black jeep about twelve cars away in the same row they were hiding in. "Follow me, and keep low," he ordered in a hushed tone.

She nodded and slipped off her heels so as not to draw attention to themselves with the loud clacking they would make, sticking them under a car, and kept her head down while she followed him to her jeep. They'd just reached it when the door they'd come from swung open, armed soldiers and controlled officers flooding into the garage, drawing the attention of Merrick's daughter and men.

"Down!" he hissed, and quickly rolled under Riley's jeep.

She was already getting on the ground and moved to hide under the car beside hers when a few men walked by, just missing her.

For several tense seconds, they didn't move and hardly breathed as the enemy walked around the garage searching for them.

Riley was shaking uncontrollably, her hand clasped over her mouth to keep herself quiet, trying not to panic.

Piers locked eyes with her, keeping her focus on him and not on the man walking around the car she was hiding under. If she so much as breathed too loud, she was screwed. She knew that too, judging by how quiet she was being even with her shaking, but she was positively terrified.

If he could just get her under the jeep with him, he could calm her down.

Once the man walked off to look into another car and he couldn't see any boots in an area where they would be seen, he ushered her over silently. She looked reluctant to move, almost petrified, but she nodded nervously and crawled out from under the car as quickly and as silently as she could to join him under the jeep.

His hand immediately found hers and he squeezed it reassuringly. "I want you to reach up and unlock your door," he whispered, handing her the car key after removing it from the chain.

Gulping, she grasped the key tightly and scooted out from under the car again, trusting him to warn her if she needed to get down, and slipped her key into the lock of the passenger door, turning it and hearing the faint sound of it unlocking.

They both froze, waiting for a sign that somebody had heard them.

The coast appearing clear, Riley returned to hiding under her jeep and handed him back the key so he could do the same with the driver's side door.

With both doors unlock, they took a moment to gather themselves under the jeep.

"We're going to have to get in the jeep at the same time," Piers whispered just loud enough for her to hear. "They'll be on us the moment the doors open, so get in, and put your seat belt on. Got it?"

She nodded.

Looking around one more time, he moved out to the driver's side door, and she followed his lead on her side. They raised their heads just high enough to be seen through the windows, and the moment he nodded, they pulled the doors open and jumped inside, shouts responding to the sound.

Barely managing to get his seat belt on, Piers started the engine and rammed the jeep into reverse and shot backwards, turning the wheel sharply, put it into drive, and slammed on the gas, speeding towards the exit that was blocked by Merrick's men and daughter.

Glaring menacing at them while all of her men moved out of the way of the speeding jeep, Jessica held her ground and raised her desert eagle, opening firing on them, undeterred by the fact that he would run her over if he got the chance. Bullets tore through the windshield, missing their heads by inches, but seconds before impact, the woman jumped to the side and out of harm's way, missing getting run over by mere inches.

He drove through the horizontal polls of the barricade and looked in the rear-view mirror, expecting a pursuit, but to his disbelief, they just watched them make their escape calmly.

It was bizarre and not what he expected, but he wasn't taking any chances. Dropping down to the speed limit so they wouldn't be pulled over and turning on the lights, he flexed his fingers on the wheel, taking a few deep breaths as his adrenaline went down.

"Where are we meeting Chris and Jill?" Piers asked, remembering but wanting to be certain.

Riley said nothing.

He looked over at her and found her hugging herself, staring out the window. Reaching out, he placed his hand on her shoulder and she nearly jumped through the roof.

"Hey, hey, calm down," he urged soothingly, putting his hand on her shoulder again, running it down her arm to hold her trembling hand. "You all right?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. "I'm okay."

Running his thumb over her knuckles, he asked again in a gentler tone, "Where are we meeting Chris and Jill?"

"Uh… Stanton Park. We're meeting them in Stanton Park," she replied shakily.

He just nodded and continued holding her hand, not sure what else he could say, and made the twenty minute drive to Stanton Park in silence. He didn't really want to talk, and his passenger didn't seem too talkative either as she continued to just stare out the window, his hand in her vice-like grip. It was obvious that she was in a state of shock, the weight of the day's events mixed with her exhaustion taking its toll on her mental state. Maybe if she were more rested and not hurt – he still wanted to know what had cut up her chest – she would be able to handle it better, but there was nothing he could do to change the events that had transpired.

Reaching Stanton Park, he drove around a parking lot and spotted Chris' car, and he parked a few spaces away.

As he undid his seat belt, Riley asked Piers sadly, withdrawn, "He's dead, isn't he?"

She meant Dwayne Forest, the man who had helped them, and his throat tightened, causing him to hesitate in opening his door. "He might have gotten out, or he could have fallen back. I don't know."

Riley didn't believe him for a second, and he didn't believe himself either.

Sighing, he got out of the car and she sluggishly did the same.

Both Chris and Jill got out of their car as well, but Chris stayed by his door while his fiancée went to meet them.

"Were you two followed?" Jill asked, looking around with her hand on the gun at her hip.

"No, they let us leave," Piers replied.

The SOA agent frowned. "They _let _you leave?"

He nodded, and explained, "The plan didn't work out – bad luck, you know? We came under fire by both Merrick's men – you do know about Merrick and Neo-Umbrella, right?" When she nodded, he continued, figuring Riley must have told them everything or something at some point. "His men and some other soldiers responded to the alarm and Dwayne Forest…" he hesitated, noticing how the younger blond stiffened beside him. "He and another officer stayed behind to cover us so we could escape. After we got in her jeep and drove off, they just watched us go. They didn't pursue."

"Damn," Jill hissed under her breath, having known Dwayne rather well. When she turned her attention to Riley, her expression turned to one of concern and she stepped closer to her, staring at her chest. "What happened?" she asked, indicating to her chest.

Riley bit her lip. "Merrick, uh, he had an extra, um…" Whatever had happened, she didn't want to talk about it, but the other woman didn't need words to understand.

Upon further inspection of the wound, Jill paled considerably, looking at her with understanding and sympathy. She put her arm around the younger woman's shoulders and lead her to the car, ignoring Piers' and Chris' questioning stares.

Seeing as it looked like he would have to wait to get the full story about Merrick, and Riley's wounds, he merely followed close behind.

Chris clasped his shoulder tightly. "Good to see you're okay."

"Thank you, Captain," he replied, though he felt anything but okay. "You have any idea about what Merrick's up to?"

Chris nodded, watching as Jill got in the back with Riley. "Yeah, Riley explained everything to me on the phone before telling me the plan. Can't say I was thrilled with her plan, but she only had two hours at most to pull it off, so we were too short on time to formulate anything else. Jill and I will explain everything when we get back to my place. All things considered, my home is probably the first place Merrick will look, but for now it's the best we've got. Claire is working on getting you two a place to stay until we get this all sorted out." After a moment, he asked in a quiet tone, "How's she doing?"

"I think she's in shock, but she wasn't hurt during the escape. I can't explain the wounds on her chest, though. She wouldn't tell me how she got them," he replied, jaw tensing as he looked in the backseat at Riley. Whatever that bastard did to hurt her, he was going to make sure he paid for it.

Watching the expression on his friend's face, recognizing it, the SOU Captain assured him, "She's a strong woman. She'll bounce back. Just give her a little time and some sleep."

Piers sighed with a slight nod and walked around the car to get in on the front passenger side.

Looking in the rear-view mirror at Riley, he saw her once again staring out the window, openly ignoring Jill who was trying to talk to her. The rudeness wasn't intentional, he was sure of that and hoped Jill didn't take offense to the silence. He didn't feel like talking at the moment either, though he wasn't sure if it was due to what was keeping her silent.

They'd managed to get away, but only because Jessica and Merrick's men let them get away. If they'd gotten into a car chase, he wasn't sure about their chances, especially in D.C. Something bigger was going on, and he had a gut feeling that this was only the start and that things were going to get much, much worse.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **_**A short chapter, but it had to be short. Just a little peek into the mind of one of the villains in this story to avoid any confusion in the coming chapters.**_

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Jessica Merrick was absolutely furious. She clenched her fist tightly to keep from ramming it into the walls and doors as she made her way to her father's office, carrying a pair of three inch black heels in her other hand that she'd found under one of the cars in the garage. Under the cars must have been where Piers and Riley had been hiding, and had her father not called them off, she would have had them! Just as she was preparing to order the men to search under the cars, not just around them, her father came in over the radio and ordered her to stand down and let the two go.

Let them go?

She'd wanted to scream when he told her that, and she stood down in her own way, wanting to give the pair a proper goodbye.

When a jeep started and sped back in reverse before racing towards her, the blindly devoted men jumped out of the way, not attempting to open fire, choosing instead to let the two through so they could escape as Merrick told them. But Jessica was at least going to give them a scare. So she pulled her desert eagle out on them and fired, purposefully missing any fatal shots, and jumped clear before she could be hit. The collision with the vehicle wouldn't have killed her, but it would have hurt like hell.

And now she wanted – no, she _demanded _– answers.

Knocking her fist on her brother's cell out of habit to let him know she was back, receiving a low growl in return, she stormed into the office and threw the heels onto the desk.

Merrick looked at the shoes then to his daughter, phone to his ear. "Pardon me, I'm afraid I'll have to call you back," he apologized to whoever was on the line, and hung up. Picking up one of the heels with his index finger, her commented, "While I do appreciate your gifts, I feel these would be better suited for someone else.

She wasn't in the mood for his attempt at humor and she paced like a caged animal in the office, and snapped, "That's all I was able to get from Dr. Conway because you called me off. Why the fuck did you do that? I had them! They were right there! I could have brought them back down here and you could have rammed that goddamn device into that woman's chest and run all the experiments you wanted on Nivans! Why didn't you let me capture them?"

"Calm down, Jessica," Merrick sighed, unconcerned. "You sound like a spoiled brat having a temper tantrum."

Nails biting into her palms in an attempt to cool her raging temper, to prevent from mutating in reaction to the intense anger she was feeling, she bit out, "Why? Just tell me, _why _you didn't have me pursue them? I could have caught them."

A knowing smile tugged at her father's lips, and he nodded. "I have no doubt that you could have, but that would have gone against my plans for the two."

Plans?

Her pacing ceased, and she stared at Merrick with a mixture of confusion and realization. "You wanted them to escape all along?"

"Yes," he replied, rising from his chair and straightening up some of the papers on his desk.

"You do realize what kind of threat they pose, right? What if they talk?"

"Oh, I'm not worried about it. Let them scream that I am running Neo-Umbrella to the heavens, for all I care. No one will believe a couple of terrorists," he stated while putting the papers neatly in the proper folders.

"Terrorists?" she repeated, talking a seat of the incredibly plush, comfortable couch, her interest peaked. "Have something up your sleeve, Father?"

He chuckled when she called him father, and she smiled a bit in return. Never did she call him "dad". All little girls called their fathers dad or daddy. Her father deserved more respect, something more refined, and so she always called him father. It was a big difference between her and her twin brother. Paul used to always call him dad, but that was back when he could speak.

Going to the cabinet in the corner of the room, he retrieved a bottle of scotch and poured himself and his daughter a glass as he explained, "The world will want to blame someone for not only China, but for the bio-attacks popping up all over the place as well as for the ones we eventually release on the world. So, I'll give the world _two _people to blame." He walked back to the young woman and handed her the glass. "Piers Nivans; a traumatized soldier suffering from PTSD who blames the BSAA for the trouble that has fallen on him since his time in the Army, as well as for tragedy in Edonia, and the C-Virus he was infected with. And Dr. Riley Conway; a troubled, antisocial virologist, scarred by the horrors that fell on her father and sister in the Congo, desperate to make the world hurt – much like Carla," he paused to sip his scotch. "We will tell the world that Conway had ties with Simmons and works for Neo-Umbrella, and that Nivans was recruited by her shortly after Edonia when Redfield's memory became jumbled due to the loss of their men, believing that the BSAA abandoned them to be killed. The whole world will blame them for the disaster in China, and later Africa, Europe, the Middle East, and eventually, the United States of America. They will be declared bio-terrorists, and all eyes will be on them."

"And off of us," Jessica added.

"Precisely." Finishing off his scotch, he set his glass down, sticking his hands in his pockets and leaning back against his desk. "The Vice President shares our late President's way of thinking, so I'll have the U.S Board and our agents in the CIA and military 'discover' damning information indicating that Nivans and Conway are bio-terrorists working for Neo-Umbrella. I was speaking to General Holts when you walked in, and he said that he could quite easily fabricate evidence against the two. Our agents in the CIA will polish everything, so by tomorrow afternoon we'll be able to let the world know the two are traitors."

It sounded like a good plan to her, and her anger disappeared completely. She should have known that her father had something good up his sleeve.

Drinking her scotch in one gulp, she asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"You, my dear, are going to be the tip of my sword and a hero in the BSAA. When the broadcast has been made declaring Nivans and Conway bio-terrorists, I will have the Board assign you to the SOA, and you will be sent to bring them in with deadly force if necessary. I want to give them a day or twos' head start after the broadcast is made to give the world a chance to become enraged, but I'm sure that once you've begun perusing them it won't take you long to track at least one of them down. Nivans and his Captain may try to stop me, but Conway is hardly a soldier and is innocent in so many ways. I don't believe she's ever killed anyone before, not even an abomination created from a virus – she always had somebody else do it if there was no other option. I'm quite certain that she will crawl into a hole and hide with someone she trusts, perhaps Redfield's sister or his fiancée, perhaps with individuals in Terra Save. Either way, she won't be much of a problem, and you should find her easily. Once you've captured or killed them, you'll be seen as a hero. You'll be able to work behind the scenes in other BSAA branches without being considered as a threat."

It sounded all well and good, but she said, "You make Dr. Conway sound like a helpless little girl who'll hide behind her mother's skirt when she's called a bio-terrorist, but you forget that despite your painful threat, she came up with a plan to get Nivans and herself out of here. I'm not exactly sure what she was planning, it may have been a great plan or a lousy one, but had you not called Cynthia when you noticed one of your guards missing, they might very well have gotten away without you knowing. The only reason I cut off their means of transportation is because I was already wary and keeping an eye outside when I heard the alarms." Setting her glass on the table, she stood, one hand on her cocked hip. "I'm not suggesting that she's some undiscovered soldier, only that you shouldn't underestimate her, or anyone for that matter."

"You worry too much, sweetheart," he replied with a fatherly smile.

"And you don't worry enough, father," she argued. "I'm the apex predator, virtually immortal, but you're only human."

He chuckled and said, "I assure you, Dr. Riley Conway is hardly a threat to me. Nivans possibly is, but not Conway."

"If you say so," she sighed, looking up at the clock. "I'm going to go feed Paul. He's probably wondering where dinner is."

The two exchanged formal goodbyes – no hugs or anything to indicate they were family – and she wandered down the hall to the farthest cell. Punching in the key code, the door unlocked, and she stepped inside where a small figure had retreated to the far corner.

"Stay away!" the young teen – thirteen, maybe fourteen – begged through her tears, her matted black hair sticking to her sweaty face. "Don't… don't come any closer!"

The girl had been a part of a group of survivors from Tall Oaks, and she and the others she was with had been picked up by one of Merrick's teams. All were being kept in separate cells, and all were uninfected.

Softening her tone, Jessica said reassuringly, "It's okay, honey. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Where are my parents? Why… why am I locked up?"

"In the lobby," she replied easily, lying. "And we had to lock you up because we thought you were infected. You saw those things in your hometown, right?" When she nodded timidly, she continued, "We were scared that you might turn into one of them, so we had to keep you in here. But you and your parents are perfectly fine. They're upstairs in the lobby waiting for you."

"… They are?"

"Yeah." Holding out her hand, she added, "C'mon, I'll take you to them."

The girl didn't move for several seconds, and then slowly, fearfully, she inched forward and accepted Jessica's offer of trust, taking her hand in her tiny one.

Giving her a friendly smile, she lead the girl out and back the way she came, a guard waiting by Paul's cell door.

Clutching Jessica's waist, desperate for comfort, the girl looked up and asked, "Why's that guard standing there?"

"He's just doing his job," she answered, putting her arm around the girl's slender shoulders, and she nodded to the guard.

He responded by punching in the long key code to her brother's door.

An excited, hungry growl responded to the sound of the door unlocking.

"Away from the door, Paul, now," she ordered sternly, and heard her brothers irritated snarl before he went to the back of the cell.

The girls legs locked and she refused to budge, brown eyes wide with terror. "W-What's that? What's in there?"

"My brother," Jessica replied. She then grabbed the girl by the arms and roughly dragged for forward, forcing her towards the cell. "And it's just about dinner time."

"No! No, no, no, no, no! Let me go!" the girl screamed, kicking back at Jessica's legs, desperately trying to weasel out of her grip. "Please! Please! You… my parents… you _promised_!"

"Sorry, kiddo, I don't make promises," she replied callously, and released one of the girl's arm so she could yank open the door before throwing her inside and slamming the door shut again, locking it and ignoring the small fists pounding on the cell and the begging. "Try not to make a mess this time, Paul."

Cracking her fingers, Jessica debated on what she herself would have for dinner. Maybe a steak, or some roast beef. Chicken was all right, but poultry wasn't her favorite thing to eat. She didn't know, but the screaming and sounds of flesh tearing and bones breaking from her brother's cell was making her mouth water. Yeah, she would have a nice, rare steak.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **_**Well, I definitely got the reaction I was looking for with the last chapter :)**_

_**And I really appreciate all the reviews you all have given this story! Seriously, you all are great!**_

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The headache that had struck Piers hadn't let up since arriving at Chris and Jill's home over an hour ago. But while it certainly hadn't gotten any better, thanks it hadn't worsened.

After walking inside, the couple gave them free reign of the showers, refrigerator, couch, and guest room. Piers told Riley to go and shower then get some sleep, but Jill insisted that he should shower first so that she could talk to the virologist and check her wounds. The younger woman still looked like she was in a state of shock, but she was more responsive than she had been in the car and said that she didn't mind waiting for her shower.

He would have preferred for her to take a shower and then let Jill look her over, believing that it may help her relax, but the SOA agent seemed to know what the wounds were all about. So he wandered down the hall to the bathroom and took a half-hour shower, reveling in the hot water.

In the privacy of the bathroom, he'd taken the time to map out the new scars he had from the C-Virus infection. From a distance, they probably wouldn't be seen very well, if at all, and up close they didn't look too bad, though anyone who saw them while talking to him would know that the marks on his face and neck were obviously scars, and then of course the ones on his side wouldn't be seen unless he was shirtless. His right arm, however, didn't have a mark on it. The scar he'd gotten on the palm of his hand when he was ten was gone. The scar on his forearm from a stray piece of shrapnel was gone. It had no scars of any kind, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Scars were badges of honor in his book, and now his arm that had been riddled with scars, each with a story behind them, was a clean slate. That would take more time to get use to than the new scars.

And now he sat on the couch in the den wearing a white shirt and dark grey sweatpants – Chris and Jill stopped at both his and Riley's apartments to get them each a bag of clothes prior to meeting them in Stanton Park – and his light brown hair was still very damp and sticking in random directions. He didn't have the energy to find a brush or spike the front like he normally did, and really, what was the point when he planned on calling it a night shortly? He would have already reclined on the couch, having decided to give Riley the guest room, but he wanted to postpone going to sleep until she got out of the shower so he could make sure she was all right.

Chris came into the room and set a beer on the coffee table. "You look like you need it."

"Thanks, Captain," he replied, taking a tired swig of the beer. He might look like he needed one, but he felt like he needed something much stronger. "You said Claire's working on getting Riley and me a place to stay?"

Nodding, Chris said, "One of her friends in Terra Save is moving into a bigger house and will be putting his old one up for sale once he and his wife finish the painting and touchups. She's trying to see if they'll postpone working on it and let you two lay low there until we get this mess cleared up. Shouldn't be a problem."

Piers took another drink, nodding silently. He appreciated what they were doing for him and Riley, even more so because they were putting their heads on the chopping block. Just in case Merrick's men showed up, Jill had showed them were the latter to the attic was so that they could hide if they had to. Thankfully, everything was quiet.

"How did we miss this?" the younger soldier asked, Chris and Jill having already filled him in on the situation. "A traitor in the BSAA is something someone should have discovered before now."

"We don't know how many people are being controlled, just that the Board definitely is. There could be someone being controlled in the U.N for all we know, and possibly people in the government and military." Sitting in one of the chairs, he continued, "Neo-Umbrella didn't even make an appearance until two-thousand-ten, and before that Riley said Merrick's family had connections with Simmons and the Family."

"What is the Family, exactly? I've never heard of them."

"Neither have I, but Jill said she heard Wesker mention them on occasion while she was under his control," he replied. "It's some kind of fraternity that's worked behind the scenes to shape the development of the world. Wesker, apparently, didn't like them very much."

"And Merrick gave them information that caused them to abandon Simmons and kill his cousin, Carla – that Ada doppelganger," he added, shaking his head. "I guess both you and Kennedy were right. The Ada we were following was killed, but the real Ada saved his ass."

"We should have noticed something was up before Carla was shot," Chris stated with a sigh, leaning back in the chair. "The woman we were chasing on the aircraft hangar was wearing leather pants and a red shirt, but the woman killed was in a blue dress and a red scarf."

Piers thought back. He was right. Unless she'd changed quickly, they'd been chasing the real Ada Wong – the innocent one. Why she was on that boat, he didn't know, and he figured he was better off not know. It was possible that she didn't like being blamed for the hell that had fallen on China and was looking to confront her doppelganger.

"Back to Merrick," started Piers, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What are we going to do about him?"

Sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees, Chris sighed, "Nothing tonight, but in the morning Jill, Claire, and I are going to start making some calls to people we trust and give them a heads up, try to get more information on Merrick, and then bring our evidence against him to the U.N. It might take a while, so you could be looking at laying low for a few days or more. Riley said something about Merrick having a facility in China, but all incoming and outgoing flights have been restricted, and no one without the proper authorization is allowed in or out until they have the C-Virus under control, which I don't see happening in the near future."

"So, while you and Jill look for anything to incriminate Merrick, I have to sit on my hands."

"You don't have to like it, but that's how it has to be," Chris reasoned. "Whether they let you two go or not, Neo-Umbrella is going to be on your asses in some way, shape, or form."

"This isn't just about you, Piers," Jill said upon returning to the room from where she'd been sitting in the hall outside the bathroom while Riley showered. "Riley's going to need someone to keep her safe while the three of us are out investigating. She's a brilliant virologist, but in case you didn't notice, she isn't used to this kind of stress and threat. Teach her to shoot, or something, just don't argue about not being able to tag along with us."

He didn't need to be told that she wasn't used to the stress they'd fallen under, he'd seen that for himself, experienced it when she blindly fought against him to get back to her friend before giving way to shock.

"How is she?" he asked, dropping his complaints about hiding for now.

Jill sighed, leaning against her fiancé's chair, and replied, "She's come out of shock, but she's more or less a little moody now, and very tired and sore. I offered to clean up the wounds on her chest again and put a clean bandage on them after she got out of the shower, but she insisted that she didn't need to be babied and went to the guest room to take care of it herself."

"How'd she get those wounds anyways? They looked like punctures, or scratches, or something."

A dark look fell over the SOA agent's face, and after adjusting her blouse to make sure that her scars were hidden, she asked, "Did she tell you how Merrick's controlling people?"

"Yeah, she said he was using the same kind of device that Chris removed from your chest a few years ago," he replied, already not liking where this was going.

"Apparently, he gave her two options to consider," she explained tightly. "Option A was to just bend over and do whatever he wanted, however he wanted, and whenever he wanted it done, but he would have gone easy on you and eventually cured you again."

He snorted.

"I don't believe that either, and neither did she, so she asked what her other choice was," she continued, hesitating slightly. "He threatened to make her a mindless slave like he has with the members of the U.S Board, his scientists, security, and whoever else, and he put one of the devices on her chest but kept it just far enough away to avoid injecting her with the drug while Jessica restrained her. As a result… the device clawed at her and repeatedly dug its legs into her in order to try to bring itself closer and infect her. He didn't pull it away until she agreed to help him."

Piers tightened his grip on the beer until he thought the bottle might break, and his other hand fisted against his knee in an attempt to keep from shouting. He knew that Merrick had done something to hurt her, but that was barbaric, and his blood boiled. No wonder she looked like she'd been crying when she came back into his room; she'd been essentially tortured and scared out of her mind. She didn't deserve that, not in the slightest.

Rising to his feet tiredly, he said, "I'm going to go check on her."

"I think she wants to be left alone, Piers," Jill commented.

"Then she can tell me to go away after I ask if I can come in," he countered, in no mood to argue about it. He was going to see for himself if she was all right. "And do either of you know her parents' numbers? They should be warned in case Merrick goes after them. I think she said her mom was in Miami, and her dad and sister were in the Congo," he added, not wanting something to happen to the woman's family.

Chris and Jill exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

Piers frowned. "What?"

Chris said, "Riley hasn't talked to her mom in years, but… her dad and sister died in the Congo when she was eleven."

That wasn't what he'd expected to hear.

"Oh," was all he said, and he walked down the hall to the guest room, more than a little confused about why she'd avoided telling him that they were dead. Reaching the door, he hesitated momentarily before knocking softly. "Riley?"

Silence.

"Riley? You awake?" he asked, knocking again.

After a moment, she quietly asked from inside the room, "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to know if you're okay."

"I'm fine," she said shortly.

Jill was right about her mood going downhill. "Can I come in?"

"Why?"

"Just to talk, that's all," he replied, leaning against the door-frame. "I'm not going to interrogate you about Merrick or anything, I just want to see for myself that you're fine." He cringed, realizing that she could take what he said as believing that she was lying or something.

She didn't take it that way, however, and said tiredly, "It isn't locked."

Taking that as permission to come in, he stepped inside the dark room, shutting the door behind him.

The street light outside allowed a little bit of light to filter into the room through the curtains, and he could just make out Riley lying on her side facing away from him, the cream colored bed sheet pulled up to her hips while the heavy comforter lay unused on the floor. On the nightstand was an open first aid kit with Band-Aids, peroxide, and cotton balls scattered around it, a few bloody pieces of cotton in the trashcan beside the bed. His chest tightened, and he decided that he had to see the damage for himself.

Setting his beer down on the nightstand, he sat on the full-size bed and laid his hand on her shoulder, gently urging her onto her back.

After a small amount of resistance, she relented and moved onto her back, and his mouth went dry. He'd noticed that she was in a black spaghetti-strap shirt, but what he hadn't noticed prior to urging her onto her back was that she wore no bra underneath it, but he sure noticed it now, even in the dim light. Not wanting to be caught staring and receive a slap, he kept his eyes on her face for a long moment and tried to get an idea of how she was feeling.

Her hair was sopping wet like she hadn't even bothered to dry it, and the spot on the pillow under her head was soaked. Aside from that, she looked exhausted, staring at him through half closed eyes, and she looked confused about what he was up to.

Once he was sure that his eyes wouldn't wander too low, he looked at the part of her chest that was visible to him, and he frowned. The V of the purple shirt she had been wearing earlier had hidden a few more punctures over the curve of her breasts along with a few more scratches, just visible above the low neck of her nightshirt. Each wound was covered with small, circular Band-Aids, and each one had a little bit of blood showing through.

"They really aren't as bad as they look," she said quietly.

He shifted on the bed and moved closer to her, his hand flat on the bed on her other side so that he could easily lean over her. Careful not to hurt her, he traced his fingers over the scratches on her chest, and his jaw clenched when she winced.

"Jill told me what he did," he bit out.

"I thought you said you wouldn't talk about Merrick," she reminded him, turning her head to the side to look out the window while he traced each scratch and brushed each bandaged puncture.

"I said I wouldn't interrogate you about him," he corrected, pausing to rest his fingers over one particularly deep scratch near her left collarbone and extended to the valley between her breasts. There was no doubt that she'd be left with scars, both physical ones and mental ones. "He's not going to get away with this, I promise."

She just nodded, neither believing or disbelieving his promise, and allowed him to go on tracing her wounds.

He knew that now probably wasn't the time to ask, but he was curious, so he asked gently, "Why'd you tell me that your dad and sister were in the Congo?"

Her eyes immediately started glistening with unshed tears and she said nothing for several seconds. Maybe asking had been a mistake after all. The last thing he wanted to do was shove his foot in his mouth again at such a bad time.

"Holly wanted to be a doctor like dad, and she constantly helped him when he went with relief groups to help the less fortunate, but I wasn't allowed most of the time because it was too dangerous," Riley said quietly, refusing to look at him. "Since I was still a little kid he would sometimes leave me with his mother while he and Holly went out of the country on medical related stuff. When I was eleven, he and Holly went down to the Congo to help a group give medical treatment to a village. It was very dangerous, and he grudgingly let Holly come along, but he outright refused to bring me, and I was so, so mad at him for making me stay behind. I was always cranky when he left without me, but before that it was only ever for a few weeks. This time, it was going to be for a few _months_, meaning I would have to be stuck with mom and dragged along on her trips to Paris. Grandma took me to the airport to say goodbye, but I refused to hug him and threw one hell of a temper tantrum that had the whole airport staring at us." She took a shaky breath and sniffed, biting back tears that threatened to fall. "He was calm the whole time and tried to reassure me even while Grandma and Holly where scolding and snapping at me to behave. And… and the last thing I said to him was that I wished he would never come back. I was just so upset and angry, and I wanted to make him hurt too."

Piers moved some hair from her face, tenderly stroking her cheek. He couldn't picture her as a little kid throwing a tantrum like that and saying something so mean, but then again he hadn't had the family situation that she did.

"That was the first time I saw him cry," she murmured, and a few tears finally fell. "A few weeks later, Mom got a phone call, and… both Dad and Holly got caught in an Ebola outbreak and died in the Conga. That's where they're buried."

"I'm sorry," he whispered sincerely, smoothing his hand over her wet hair.

"That's why I became a virologist. I wanted to cure Ebola. But while I've helped create cures and personally engineered the suppressant for the C-Virus, I have never been able to cure Ebola," she said with a heavy, trembling sigh. "The last thing I told my father was that I wished he would never come back, and I got my fucking wish. Now, I have to live with it."

"Hey," he started, shifting his weight onto his elbow and bringing himself closer to her, cupping her jaw and forcing her to look at him. "You were a pissed off kid and your dad was leaving for months. What happened to him would have happened no matter what you said, and if your dad's half as great as you make him seem, I'm sure he didn't hold what you said against you."

"Yeah, maybe."

"No maybes," he insisted. "He'd be proud of you."

"Proud?" she repeated in disbelief. "I've defended Merrick and helped convince people that he was a good guy! I'm partially to blame for all of this!"

"No, you're not, and don't you ever blame yourself, do you hear me?" he demanded sternly. "He had you scared and in the dark, plain and simple. You knew enough to keep you afraid of him, but not enough to believe that he was up to something, and that was what he wanted. None of this is your fault, okay?"

Biting her lip, tears leaking from the corners of her green eyes, she nodded mutely.

He didn't know if she believed him or not, but at least she made no further argument. He'd take what he could get, and he sighed. But upon taking a deep breath, he came to realize just how close he was to Riley.

In the process of leaning closer to her to get it through her head that she wasn't to blame, he'd unknowingly half laid down on top of her, his weight supported on his elbow beside her, and they were pressed chest to chest. He realized just how inappropriate he was being and cursed silently in his head. Here he was trying to reassure her and check up on her, and he was almost completely on top of her. The last thing he needed was for her to think he was using the situation to make a move on her. His mind had briefly wandered to the gutter upon noticing that she wasn't wearing a bra under her shirt, making him take notice of her perfect curves, and he had to wonder just how soft her hidden skin would be beneath his battle roughened hands… no this was not the time, and he bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to be rid of the inappropriate thoughts when they returned.

With the feel of her pressed against him making his head spin, he started sitting up only to become frozen in place when she leaned up and placed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. He stared down at her, utterly bewildered and taken aback while she flushed red, her skin heating up from where she'd reached up to rest her hand against his cheek.

The kiss hadn't been a friendly peck on the cheek, nor had it been a romantic kiss on the lips. It had been something in between, and something far more intimate.

"… What was that for?" he asked dumbly.

"For keeping me from running after Dwayne and getting myself killed, and for coming in here to check on me," she said quietly, a nervous edge to her voice. "Saying thank you seemed too cheap and common, so, yeah. I mean, if I was out of line or… or something, just say so. Say the word, and I won't do it again, promise. Damn, I probably shouldn't have done it to begin with. I'm sorry," she apologized on one breath, removing her hand from his cheek to cover her eyes in a pitiful attempt to hide in embarrassment.

Despite her clear discomfort and embarrassment, Piers found himself smiling in amusement at her reaction. As confident as she was around a lab and viruses and medicine, she fumble for mere words when taken out of her element. It might be an embarrassing trait to her, but to him, it was adorable.

Most women he was with spoke so easily it was almost as if they rehearsed the lines of an invisible script before he walked over or they walked over, and it took all that was personal out of the conversation and short relationship. Having a woman stumble so naturally in a conversation and struggle for the right words was refreshing.

When she'd yet to remove her hand from her eyes, he reached for her hand and gently pried it away with a bit of resistance that made him smile wider.

Her embarrassment quickly turned to irritation when she saw him smiling down at her. "Oh, so now you're going to start laughing at me?" she accused, a twinge of hurt lacing her words.

"No, no, I'm not going to laugh, it's just that…" Now it was his turn to dig around for the right words. Sighing, smile still on his face, he released her hand and brushed his thumb along her cheek. "You an amazing woman, that's all."

The blush returned to her face and her scowl faded, though the embarrassment did not return. "Oh, well… thank you," she replied quietly, not entirely sure what to say to that.

It hit him that he could probably get away with stealing a real kiss from her and finally discover if her lips tasted as sweet as they looked since meeting in Edonia. He was certainly close enough. All he would have to do was lean in just a little more, and he was sure that she wouldn't oppose. But he didn't. This just wasn't the right time, no matter how much he wanted to, and they were both exhausted and needed to get a full night's sleep in order to think clearly.

"You should get some sleep," Piers said after a moment, regretfully sitting up and pulling away from her.

Unmasked disappointment fell over her eyes and she sighed. "You should too."

Reluctantly, he stood from the bed and walked to the door. There was a couch in the living-room with his name on it.

"Hey, Piers?"

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Why don't you… I mean, we're both adults, so there's…" she shut her mouth to gather her thoughts. "There's no reason for you to sleep on a couch. Just sleep here tonight. The bed is plenty big."

Just because it was bigger than that hardly twin-size medical bed didn't mean that it was plenty big enough. He'd still be awfully close to her.

He hesitated, not sure if that was a good idea. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch," he assured her.

"I mind," she argued, not taking no for an answer. "We both need to sleep, and I've slept on that couch before. It isn't comfortable. If it bothers you so much, just sleep on top of the sheet while I sleep under it."

He hadn't thought about not sleeping under the sheet with her, and given where his thoughts had threatened to go, that was probably a very wise option. And that couch really wasn't comfortable, but the bed was.

A few more beats passed before he finally relented and tugged off his sweatpants, leaving him in his t-shirt and boxers – he normally didn't sleep with a shirt on, but he was leaving it on tonight. Retrieving a spare blanket from a chair in the corner of the room, he returned to the bed and got on top of the sheet while Riley reached down on the floor on her side of the bed for another pillow, revealing to him that she was only wearing a pair of dark purple panties beneath the sheet before she readjusted the sheet and handed him the pillow. He swallowed thickly, the image of her perfectly curved ass burned into his brain, and accepted the pillow, acting like he didn't see anything.

Riley didn't notice his discomfort and she turned back on her side, facing away from him yet again with her arm curled under her pillow and her knees pulled close to her chest, forming a ball of sorts.

"Goodnight, Piers," she yawned.

"Night," he mumbled back, lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

Being this close to Riley was heady, and he ached to turn over and curl his arm around her and fall asleep. He bit back that impulse and closed his eyes, willing himself into a deep sleep on the far edge of the bed.

* * *

_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	12. Chapter 12

Morning came all too soon for Riley, but the smell of fresh coffee had roused her from her deep sleep, making her mouth water. Forcing her eyes to open, she groaned, flinching away from the ray of sunlight that was hitting her directly in the face. She brought her hand up to block out the light and blinked a few times, frowning when she didn't recognize her surroundings.

Fighting away the sleep that had fogged up her mind, anxious, she scratched an itchy spot on her upper chest and hissed when her blunt nails scrapped over one of her cuts. It all came back in that instant as she recalled being viciously threatened by Merrick and escaping to Chris and Jill's home with Piers.

Her mounting anxiety disappeared and she yawned.

She was surprised that she slept so soundly and without nightmares. Even after her father's death she'd had terrible nightmares, made worse by some of the horrors she'd witnessed when traveling for work. By all rights, she should have woken up screaming at some point during the night. The soft snoring behind her reminded her that she wasn't alone in the bed, and she concluded that didn't have a nightmare for once because she wasn't left to sleep with her trauma alone. She'd half expected him to retreat to the couch once she fell asleep, but was relieved to have been wrong in her assumptions. She would have to thank him later for staying with her the whole night.

The delicious aroma of coffee finally took its toll on her and she stretched, fully intent on getting up to get herself a cup of coffee, and the arm she hadn't noticed around her waist tightened, keeping her where she was.

How she couldn't have noticed before was shocking, but Riley turned bright red when she realized that she and Piers had somehow become tangled together in the middle of the night.

The sheet had been kicked to the foot of the bed, the body heat making it too hot for the thin sheet, and one of his legs was between hers, effectively pinning one of her legs to the bed. His arm had replaced her pillow and it was bent slightly so that he could easily hold her right hand. But what made her blush brightly was the realization that her top had ridden up to just under her breasts and his arm was curled tightly around her, his thumb tucked beneath the bunched up fabric of her shirt.

The warmth emitting from his clothed chest against her back, his legs against hers, and the arm draped over her waist was suddenly scorching, and no matter how pleasant it was, she needed to get out of the embarrassingly inappropriate position before he woke up. She wanted to take a minute to enjoy the feeling the closeness stirred in her, but she had no way of know if he was a light or heavy sleeper, or if he would wake up soon to the smell of coffee.

Biting her lip, she slowly tugged her pinned leg out from under his, wiggling her toes to wake up her foot and get rid of the pins and needles sensation before bringing her legs closer to the edge of the bed. The young man grunted in his sleep, shifting behind her, and she froze, hoping to God that he didn't wake up. To her relief, he didn't, and she gently lifted his limp arm off of her and quickly slid off the bed and to the floor, prying her hand from his.

Piers' arm reached out to where she'd been, a frown appearing on his face when he noticed something was missing.

Quickly, Riley found her dark green yoga pants and slipped them on, straightened her thin strapped shirt, and put on her black hoody. She'd hardly had the hoody zipped by the time the man on the bed rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rolled to his back with a long yawn.

She released the breath she was holding, utterly relieved that she now looked decent and didn't have to explain why they'd been a mess of tangled limbs.

"Morning," she said, trying to act casual.

Running his hand over his face, Piers looked over at her, still half asleep. "Morning," he replied, then smirked. "Nice hair."

Frowning, she went to the mirror and groaned. Thanks to going to sleep with wet hair, her shoulder length dark blond hair was a knotted mess, unfit to be seen. Muttering a curse, she pulled the hood of her hoody up over her head to hide the mess.

Turning back to him as he sat up, she smiled. "You're one to talk about hair, Piers. Instead of a front spike, you've got random spikes all over your head. It looks like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket."

"I don't doubt it," he yawned, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. The action backfired, and instead working out the kinks from his limbs, he winced and lowered his arms, rotating his right arm a few times with obvious discomfort.

Riley walked over to the bed and sat down, pulling her legs under her, and she pushed up the short sleeve of his shirt. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," he admitted. "It just feels cramped up. Might have just moved wrong escaping last night."

Placing one hand on his shoulder and the other at his elbow, she instructed him to raise his arm and extend it, and each time he bit back a wince, the arm trembling slightly.

"Take your shirt off. I need to get a better look," she instructed, tone as professional as ever.

He nodded and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the edge of the bed.

Now that she could see what she was doing, she pressed her fingers against the scars around his shoulder and chest where the mutated limb had been removed, digging in to gauge his reaction. It was clearly bringing discomfort by how the muscles in his jaw twitched. She rotated his arm a few times, pressing her fingers into his shoulder, mumbling an apology when he hissed.

Sitting back on her legs, she shook her head, eying his arm. "I can't say for sure, but the discomfort might be caused by the scar tissue in your muscles and tendons from the mutations we had to leave behind during the surgery. The discomfort might go away, but it might be permanent, or it might come and go. I really can't say. I doubt it's anything serious, though. You're probably just going to have to make sure you spend a bit more time with your right arm when you exercise."

"Permanent discomfort and muscle cramps, huh?" he repeated, less than happy with her assessment.

She bit her lip. "I might be wrong. Like I said, it could come and go, or just cease completely."

"It's fine," he assured her, but didn't look at her. "Better an arm with some pain, than no arm at all."

Riley watched her for a few seconds, unsure of his attitude towards his arm.

Since it had regrown, he'd taken everything that had happened with almost with a grain of salt, not at all concerned about it, but he didn't sound enthusiastic when he just told her it was better to have an arm with pain than no arm.

"How are you doing, Piers?" she asked as both his doctor and friend. "You're taking all of this oddly well."

"Would you rather I crawl into a corner and cry? I have my arm back – why wouldn't I be taking this well?"

"I don't know, it's just, well… I just want to make sure nothings bothering you, that's all," she explained. Maybe she was overreacting and reading him wrong, but she didn't think he was entirely okay with the outcome of his arm, though she couldn't understand why.

He offered her a half smile, squeezing her hand before getting out of bed, and he said, "Thanks, Mom, but I'm fine, honest."

She blinked.

_Mom_?

Watching him put his shirt back on, she blushed. The strong muscles in his back rippled beneath the slightly tanned skin before being hidden by the shirt, and she knew for sure that while he might joke around and call her "mom", her reactions towards any of his actions were anything but motherly. She sure as hell didn't want him to think of her as being a mother to him. It was only a joke, but that joke brought her down a little bit. Maybe if she hadn't chickened out and actually kissed him last night, he wouldn't be joking and calling her mom.

Mentally, she kicked herself for losing her nerve last night.

A hairs width before she would have met his lips with her own, she diverted off course and kissed the corner of his mouth instead. It was a kiss, but not a kiss at the same time, and she still managed to get her thanks across, just not in the way she'd wanted. While he seemed to like it, she'd been seriously embarrassed and hoped that he hadn't notice her earlier intentions. She didn't often initiate things but she'd been _so _close to him, the heat of his body better than any blanket, so touched by what he said to her even if she didn't believe him completely, that she acted on impulse and had made to kiss him… but didn't kiss him on the lips as she'd wanted.

Sighing, blowing a tangled lock of hair from her face, she got out of bed and picked up her duffel bag filled with some clothes and toiletries – courtesy of Chris and Jill – and also picked up the first aid kit before she headed out to the bathroom to brush her teeth, try to tame her hair, check her wounds, and change.

She locked the door behind her and set her bag on the sink to dig through for her toiletries before stopping suddenly to yank out a clean black bra. She could not forget to put on a bra, not after last night. Just because she'd had her head turned towards the window and it was relatively dark did not mean she didn't notice Piers' eyes drift past her wounds once or twice, nor did it go unseen that he'd swallowed and worked too hard to keep his eyes appropriately on her wounds and no lower before she drew his attention to her family. She was a woman after all – women noticed when men looked at their breasts and ass.

Setting the black bra, black panties, jeans, black tank top, and purple short-sleeve blouse – purple was by far her favorite color – on the hamper, she went back to pulling out her toiletries from the bag. She had to laugh softly when she came across her birth control pills, turning them over in her hand before popping a pill out and taking it with a handful of water. For the most part, she only had her doctor prescribe her birth control in order to make 'that time of the month' easier on her, the cramps absolutely killer, but it didn't hurt to take them for other reasons, especially now. There were about eighteen pills left – a few left behind in a baggy at work – so she wouldn't have to rush to get someone to refill it for her.

Getting back to the reason she was in the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and changed into her clothes after changing the bandages. Brushing her hair was the biggest challenge and she winced when she accidentally yanked a few hairs from her head. By some miracle, she managed to at least make her hair presentable, though it was a bit too wavy for her liking, and a few strands were sticking in odd directions.

"You almost done in there?" Piers asked, knocking on the door.

"Yeah," she replied. "Just a second."

He sighed. "What are you doing in there? You've been in there for almost thirty minutes."

"I'm having a baby," she said, rolling her eyes as she stuffed her items back in the bag. "What's it matter what I'm doing?"

He grumbled something she couldn't make out, and she just ignored him, zipping up the bag and checking herself in the mirror. She'd looked better, the circles under her eyes lingering despite a full night's sleep, a few scratches and punctures visible, and her hair not great, but she's also looked much worse.

Bag in hand, she unlocked the door and stepped out to find Piers leaning back against the wall, already changed into some jeans and a brown shirt, combat boots on while she was walking around barefoot, wish his toothbrush in hand.

"About time. I don't get how you women can spend so much time in the bathroom."

"That's because your chromosomes are different," she pointed out, tossing her bag onto the bed in the guest bedroom. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm getting some coffee. Did Chris make it or did Jill."

"Jill," he assured her with a knowing chuckle.

Chris made terrible, undrinkable coffee, but Jill's coffee was always perfect.

Leaving him at the bathroom, Riley ventured down the hall to the kitchen for a hot cup of coffee. She hadn't stepped one foot into the kitchen, however, before she was enveloped in a tight hug by Claire.

"I'm so glad you're all right!" Claire exclaimed.

Riley hugged her back though she felt the air being squeezed from her lungs with how tightly her friend was hugging her. Looking over the redhead's shoulder to her brother leaning against the counter, she gave him a pleading look.

Chris shook his head, smiling, but came to her aid. "I think you're suffocating her, Claire."

"Oh, right, sorry," Claire apologized, releasing her friend. Eying the wounds on her chest, she said, "Jill told me what Merrick did to you. Are you okay?"

She shrugged, deciding to button up her blouse up to her breasts to hide the wounds a little better. V-necks were out of the question for a while, if not permanently. "The cuts and all will be fine, but… it's going to be a while until I'm okay with it all," she admitted, receiving a gentler hug from Claire.

"We'll get him, I promise," she assured her sincerely.

"I hope you're right." Pulling away from her friend, she found a clean coffee cup and got herself a cup of coffee. "Were you able to find Piers and me a place to stay?" she asked, putting some vanilla creamer in the coffee.

"Yeah, my friend and his wife are going to let you stay at their old place until this is all fixed," she replied, taking her own coffee off the counter, sipping it. "They don't mind postponing working on it, and offered to help find anything on Merrick. Downside is that they don't have any furniture or beds."

"We should have some sleeping bags you two can use," Chris offered, but Claire rolled her eyes.

"Just give them that air mattress you have stuffed in the closet. You never use it. Besides," Claire said, a knowing smirk on her face. "She and Piers didn't seem to mind sharing a bed last night. You sure did look cute all cuddled up this morning when I came to wake you both. I decided to let you two sleep a little longer."

Riley choked on her coffee, coughed, and blushed bright red while Chris scratched the back of his neck, acutely uncomfortable with the turn the conversation took, but he looked at her in a way that demanded an explanation. The look made her feel like she did something she wasn't supposed to, and she hated how he sometimes acted like a big brother to her.

Just as he did with Claire, he took a particular interest in any man she spent time with or started dating, playing the role of the protective big brother. And one thing was for sure – he wasn't a fan of the idea of her dating Piers. Claire joked about it a lot when they all went out together and insisted that she would set them up on a date someday, and Chris was quick to shoot down the idea of her and Piers being on a date of any kind. She didn't know why he would have a problem with them being together considering he knew Piers better than the rest of them. Wouldn't he approve more of her dating someone he knew than a stranger?

Shrinking a bit under Chris' questioning eyes, she suddenly felt the need to explain the "cuddling" that had occurred.

"It was, uh… we didn't…" She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and Claire had the decency to look a little sorry for bringing it up in front of Chris. "It was an accident, and…"

"What was an accident?"

Everyone looked to Piers as he entered the kitchen, searching for a coffee cup, completely oblivious to the conversation they'd just started having.

"She used my creamer," Claire said quickly. "I don't like people hogging it without asking."

Piers looked at them all like they were nuts, frowning at the chilly look Chris was giving him, but just shook his head and got himself a cup of coffee.

"Do Riley and me have a place to stay for a while?" he asked, taking a drink of his coffee and moving to stand beside a very flustered Riley.

The action didn't exactly put Chris at ease, but he said nothing.

Relieved that she hadn't put the young soldier in the line of fire, Claire nodded. "Yeah, one of us will give the two of you a ride down later."

He nodded, leaning back against the counter, and asked Chris, "Hear anything about Merrick?"

The SOU Captain didn't answer right away, but then loosened up and said, "I've called a few people and they all have said the same thing – Merrick's been with the Board all night and apparently had a conference with the U.N and some high profile men in the military very early this morning and has been in the conference since then. To make it worse, the conference was supposedly being held in the White House."

"The White House?" Riley repeated, surprised. "What's he doing there?"

"No one knows."

Piers opened his mouth to voice a question, but was cut off by Jill running into the room, eyes wide.

"You guys need to come see this. Now," she insisted, hurrying back to the family room to turn the T.V volume up.

The four of them hurried after her, worried about what had the normally composed woman turning red with anger.

"What's going –" Chris started.

"Shh!" she hissed, pointing at the T.V as the President spoke.

"… _come to our attention that BSAA virologist Dr. Riley E. Conway has been secretly in league with Neo-Umbrella and assisted in the creation of the C-Virus."_

Riley's jaw dropped. "What?"

"_How long she has been working with the bio-terrorist group is unknown, but it's suspected that she has been with them since its creation in two-thousand-ten. What we are absolutely certain of is that since its creation, she has recruited Piers T. Nivans, a soldier in the BSAA's Special Operations Unit."_

"You've got to be kidding me." Piers chuckled angrily, crossing his arms over his chest.

"_Last night, Nivans was successfully treated for a C-Virus infection by Conway, who created a cure for the deadly virus. However, later that night she and Nivans attempted to assassinate Dr. Merrick when he discovered her ties to Neo-Umbrella and threatened to expose them. The plot was thwarted by the BSAA's security officer Jessica Merrick, however, both Conway and Nivans escaped with the only remaining sample of the C-Virus antidote and all files regarding its creation."_

"That's a lie!" Riley shouted at the T.V, looking from it to Chris and Jill. "We didn't try to kill him and we didn't take anything, I swear!"

Piers wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest tightly, holding her together while she stared wide-eyed at the broadcast.

"_In the wake of this attack and the traitorous actions of both Riley Conway and Piers Nivans, they have been deemed bio-terrorists and will promptly be brought to justice to be held accountable for their actions against the world. The BSAA will oversee their capture, led by Jessica Merrick, earlier promoted to the SOA…"_

"I can't listen to this," she declared, pulling away from Piers and stomping back to the kitchen.

Bracing her elbows on the counter, she held her head in her hands, covering her face as she took shaky breaths.

She didn't need to listen to the rest. The President had been lied to, fed false information that pegged both her and Piers as traitors and terrorists. Worse, Merrick was made out to be a victim. A victim! She wanted to scream, to run to the White House and yell at the President that they were innocent and that Merrick and his daughter were the terrorists.

Strong hands landed on her shoulders, squeezing, and she sighed, righting herself and turning to face Piers while leaning back against the counter. "They still watching?"

He nodded. "Yeah, they want to know as much as possible about what to expect."

"You should watch it to. You understand the shit we're in better than I do," she said, biting back tears. She'd cried enough.

"They're recording it," he replied, smoothing his rough left hand and soft right one down her arms. "I'll watch it later."

Sniffling, she nodded, and not a second later she closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around his waist so that she could rest her head against his chest.

He was a little surprised by the action but recovered quickly and embraced her, holding her tightly.

She didn't need words of reassurance or promises that everything would be okay, she needed pure comfort that came from the company of another. Right now, Piers was the one she needed that comfort from, and she got it, his warmth soothing her and his arms holding her together. For at least a second, she wanted to pretend that everything was going to be fine.

But nothing was all right, and she was certain that things were going to get much, much worse.

* * *

_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **_**Sorry for the delay. I ran into a case of writers block. I knew exactly what I wanted to write, but every time I wrote it I wasn't happy with it, so I did another playthrough of Chris' campaign in the game just to get back into the swing of things. But let me tell you, seeing that the reviews had hit the 100 mark certainly kicked my butt into gear lol. I seriously felt like I was pulling teeth with this chapter, so I'll go ahead and apologize if this is not my best work.**_

_**I'll be upfront with all of you; I'm not entirely sure when the next update will be. This is partly due to the lingering writers block, but is mostly a result of the holidays. There's just so much to do that all my free time is spent decorating, Christmas shopping, wrapping, and rearranging the decorations I put up. It's just really chaotic right now.**_

_**And Chris' hostility towards the idea of Piers and Riley being together will be explained in this chapter.**_

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Piers raked his fingers through his hair, still trying to process the fact that both Riley and himself had been declared bio-terrorists while he sat at the kitchen table. He hadn't thought that Merrick had that kind of control, and neither had the others. At the most, he'd thought his control might have seeped into the military, maybe a few government officials, but not to anyone who could sway the President to such extent. Then again, if enough men and women in the government and military came to the President with evidence against them, the President was bound to believe that the reports were true. A grim thought entered his mind about the possibility of the President himself being controlled, and that thought sent a chill down his spine. If he was under Merrick's control, they truly were screwed.

Sighing, he looked at Chris and Jill who were also seated at the table. He looked for any indication that one of them suddenly had an idea, but they looked just as lost as he felt. He had to wonder if Claire and Riley had thought of anything, but he didn't want to go ask quite yet.

Riley had been pissed and frightened after leaving the family room, and though she'd calmed down in his arms, Claire insisted that she take her back to the guest bedroom so she could relax and the two of them could talk. He hadn't appreciated Chris' sister taking Riley away from him when she'd just started to calm down, and neither had the virologist if the scowl on her face had been any indication, but they didn't argue. Besides, Piers needed to get a plan together with Chris and Jill.

Unfortunately, they weren't going to have much time to discuss the matter.

Thirty minutes ago, Chris and Jill had both been called by the BSAA and informed that they were to report to DC HQ in one hour to discuss Piers and Riley. To keep up the persona that they didn't know where the two were, they agreed without question.

So, for the past half-hour they'd been trying to formulate a plan before he and Riley left for the house they'd be hiding in for a while, at which time Chris and Jill would then head to HQ. They had laid out the facts the young virologist had given them and what they already knew in an attempt to find a weak spot, but the problem was that they really didn't know much about Merrick except that he was using devices based off Wesker's design to control people, was running illegal experiments, was now the head of Neo-Umbrella, and a few other things, but no physical proof. The only thing they really had to go on was China.

With nothing left to add to what they already knew, Piers sighed and asked, "What now?"

"I don't know," Chris admitted. "The world's not going to believe the testimonies of two suspected bio-terrorist, so turning yourselves in is out of the question unless you're looking for an execution."

"Couldn't we go to the President and stand up for them?" Jill asked, looking over the notes they'd taken.

Chris shook his head. "All that would do is have us pegged as accomplices. We don't have any evidence to have Merrick even considered to be a traitor anyways." Shaking his head at the papers and map he had in front of them, he said, "I hate to say it, but if we're going to stand any chance at convincing everyone that Merrick is the terrorist, someone's going to have to go to China. That's where he told Riley his main building is located."

"Getting there is going to be a problem," Piers grumbled. "The Chinese government has closed their doors to non-citizens without proper BSAA authorization, and I doubt any of us are going to be welcomed in with open arms."

"Um, I think I might have a way into the country."

The three of them looked in the direction of the hallway as Riley appeared with Claire beside her. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she still looked a little shaken by the President's announcement, her fair skin a few shades paler than it should be, but she wanted to help and that want had brought her out of the safety of the guest bedroom.

"Riley?" Chris urged when she remained silent for a few seconds longer.

Licking her lips, she walked over and looked at the map on the table. "My dad spent ten years in China before I was born doing some medical work for the local relief groups before taking his skills to tribes and villages around the world. He still went there though to visit old friends, and he even took me there for a few weeks at a time off and on since I was three," she explained, and tapped the label "Hong Kong" on the map. "There's a woman named Didi Chang here who used to work regularly with my father whenever he was in the country. She's a doctor with a local relief group there and she, well, let's just say she helped him get into places he shouldn't with her group if there were serious medical needs that needed to be met or if someone needed to get out of the country."

"I think I've come across her name a few times," Claire commented, leaning back against the wall. "She's a big supporter of Terra Save. But I don't understand why she's never joined either Terra Save or the BSAA – I heard she was given an invitation but declined."

Piers nodded more to himself, looking at the map. Never would he have suspected that she would have had that kind of connection in China, but he was incredibly gratefully that she did. However, to hear that her friend refused to be a part of the BSAA and Terra Save was concerning.

"Can she be trusted?" he asked, needing to know.

Riley nodded without a second's thought. "Most definitely. The only reason she opted not to join either group is because she's already at odds with many in the Chinese government because of her 'do it with or without permission' mindset – if she can't get permission to help people, she'll do it behind the government's back, which is why the group she's with doesn't have a formal name. Most people call the group simply the Relief. The group itself is damn near selfless, but she helps the victims of bio-terrorism however she can even if it means putting herself at risk. Not to mention she watched out for me in China whenever my dad was busy and is more of a mother to me than my own is. I still keep in contact with her." Sighing, she shook her head. "She's probably already found a way to weasel into the quarantined zones by now to get aid to the people inside or get them out."

Chris considered her words for a long moment before he finally asked, "Do you think you can get a hold of her?"

"I should be able to, yeah. I just need to know who all needs smuggled into the country," she replied.

"Me," Piers said before anyone else could even open their mouth.

"Piers, if the Chinese government finds out you're in China, they won't be happy about it considering they believe you're one of the people responsible for the mess," Jill pointed out. "They won't arrest you – they'll kill you."

He knew there was significant danger in traveling to China when the world thought he was a terrorist, but he didn't see any other option. "Both you and Chris need to do what the BSAA says for now or else they'll think you're all 'in league' with me and Riley. Claire can do more to help use through Terra Save, and I can't think of anyone else willing to go. This is the only way."

Neither the soldier nor the agent appeared to like the idea of having to play ball with Merrick for now, their hate for the man stronger than it ever was before, but how could they deny that Piers was right? If they went to China against the BSAA's orders or spoke in favor of he and Riley, they would be branded as accomplices or something and wouldn't be able to help as much as they could behind the scenes.

The Captain sighed, running his hand over his face tiredly, but said, "All right. We'll stay here and handle things from this end while you search Lanshiang for answers."

"I'll update you regularly, Captain," Piers promised. Looking to Riley, he asked, "Can you call up your… what?" The look on her face had brought him to a halt.

Riley crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him through the narrow slits of her eyes. "You keep saying that '_you're_ going to China', and that '_you'll_ update everyone'. I'm fairly certain you mean, _we_ are going to China. I'm coming with you."

Piers shook his head adamantly. "You're not going."

Lanshiang had been as close to a nightmare as it could get when he and Chris were there a few days ago. J'avo had been all over the place and swarmed like locusts, and then when the gas fell over the city it became overrun with the undead as well. Word was that things were getting worse by the minute, and with a target on their backs for the disaster there, he wasn't going to risk her safety by bring her along.

Riley, however, wasn't going to accept staying behind so readily.

"The hell I'm staying!" she snapped angrily, dropping her arms to her sides. "You'll need my help!"

Sighing heavily, he rose to his feet and demanded, "Can you shoot a gun?"

"I can learn."

"Are you familiar with grenades, firearms, and the range and operation of other weapons? Do you know how to take down the different varieties of J'avo quickly and efficiently?"

Some of the confidence left her face, but she replied, "No, but you can teach me. I'm a fast learner."

"Riley," Chris interjected, also standing. "China is ground zero for the C-Virus, and you can't go in with the intent on learning how to fight. You need to know exactly what you're doing and getting into before you find yourself faced with a threat like a J'avo or the undead. I understand that you want to help, but be realistic – you don't have the experience required to help Piers with this."

The woman gaped at her friend, visibly offended, before snapping her mouth shut. "No experience, huh? Okay then, tell me what I'm saying…" She began talking quickly but no one followed a single word she was saying, unable to understand where one word began and ended, much less where a sentence was in the jumble of words flowing effortlessly from her mouth.

She was speaking Chinese.

"You speak Chinese?" Jill asked, clearly surprised.

Licking her lips, Riley nodded. "My dad spoke it fluently and taught me the language along with Italian. Never could learn Spanish though. Didi made sure that I had constant lessons whenever I was in China with Dad, and by the time I was ten I was speaking it perfectly."

"So you speak the language, that's great," Piers admitted. "But I can have your friend translate for me if I need to."

Riley smirked.

"What?"

"Didi doesn't understand English," she declared, smiling knowingly. "So good luck with talking to her and everyone else."

Piers groaned, putting his hands on his head before bracing them on the table, hunching over a bit. He knew Spanish, but Chinese sounded like gibberish to his ears. He didn't want her coming with him, but he couldn't thoroughly search Lanshiang without having a translator with him, something that hadn't occurred to him until now.

Losing her smile, the virologist looked to everyone before stepping over to Piers to further her case. "Piers, I've worked for Merrick for years and know what to look for in Lanshiang, more or less. If I can get into his facility I might be able to manufacture a cure of some kind or make a vaccine to give to the uninfected. At the very least I'll recognize drugs and the like that we can bring to the table that will prove his the terrorist. Besides, I need to monitor you just in case something goes wrong with your arm. You did say that it was hurting earlier."

"Do not bring my arm into this, Riley," he snapped sharply, taking her aback a bit.

Claire frowned, catching the sharp tone along with everyone else in the room, and he bit his tongue at their expressions. He hadn't meant to snap, but his arm was fine. Everything was _fine_.

Riley worried on her lower lip, surprised by how he'd snapped at her, and said nervously, "I didn't mean anything by it. I was only saying that it might be best that I accompany you to China anyways because, well, uh, because your arm's bothering you and I still want to make sure that there aren't any negative side effects as a result of the cure. I don't even know what was in it." Diverting her eyes away from his, she rambled on as though he wasn't there, "Damn it, I should have looked at the contents and paid attention to its creation. Maybe… no, that wouldn't have gone into it. I don't think there will be any bad side effects but, shit, I don't know. I could always –"

"Riley," Piers said loudly, cutting off her nervous rambling.

She bit her lip and went silent, looking at the floor. That only furthered his irritation at himself for acting the way he did over her comment about his arm.

Chris stared at Piers for a long moment before walking up to Riley. Placing his hand on the woman's shoulder, he suggested, "Why don't you go bring Jill and Claire up to date about your friend and get a plan together for China? Might as well get a hold of Didi while you're at it and see if she can get you two into the country."

Piers' eyes snapped to his Captain, both shocked and pissed that he'd told Riley that she was going. "Captain, she can't –"

"Other room, Piers," Chris ordered tightly. "Now."

The young man snapped his mouth shut and followed Chris to the laundry room where they could talk privately without the others hearing them.

Slamming the door shut, Chris said, "Like it or not, she's right. She knows Chinese, has connections in China that we don't, and knows what to look for in Merrick's facility. The smartest thing to do is take her with you. You're just going to have to give her a crash course in weapons."

"Crash course," Piers repeated irritably. "She froze up when we were escaping and damn near lost it because we had to leave her friend behind. I know that she's been in war-zones before, but she hasn't been in a situation where she won't be surrounded by armed escorts, let alone in a situation where she's a target. I don't think she can handle the stress."

"Tough, she's going."

Lips thinning, the young man shook his head. He didn't agree with her coming along in the slightest, no matter how helpful she would be. She was one person he didn't want to risk getting hurt.

Unable to argue with his Captain once he made up his mind and gave an order, he sighed, "I'll teach her how to use a gun after we reach that safe house."

Figuring that was all, he made to leave.

"I'm not done," Chris announced, voice lower than before. "I don't know what your problem is with your arm, or what is running through your head, but do not take it out on Riley. She's trying to help."

Piers shrank a bit, feeling as though he was a kid being scolded by his dad. He recovered quickly, though, and argued, "I don't have a problem with my arm. I just don't think she should have brought it up."

That was only half true, but he didn't bother coming clean that he wasn't entirely happy with his arm since he himself wasn't entirely sure why it frustrated him to the point where he didn't even want to talk about the limb.

Chris snorted. "Right. Just ease up. I don't need you hurting her."

"Hurt her? All I did was tell her not to bring it up. Why have you been riding my ass and giving me the snake eye since I came into the kitchen earlier?" he questioned, utterly confused.

Approaching him, the taller man came to stand in front of him, and said quietly in case anyone was eavesdropping, "In case you haven't noticed, she cares about you. I can see it, and so can Jill and Claire. And I get the sense that the feeling's mutual, am I right?"

Piers kept his mouth shut, and that was answer enough for Chris.

"Were it up to Claire, she'd have set you two up by now, but given how you are I don't think that's a good idea."

Piers couldn't deny that he was a little offended by the remark, and demanded quietly, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't get me wrong, you're a good guy, Piers, and a good friend, but I know how you are with women," Chris explained. "If a woman so much as hints that she wants something more out of the relationship, you leave her with some lame excuse, making her just another name on a list of women. I don't intend on seeing that happen to Riley."

There really wasn't anything Piers could say about that and he kept quiet while he thought of an appropriate answer that wouldn't get him hit upside the head. Chris had said more than once that Riley was family whether she was related or not. If he was even half as protective of her as he was of Claire, there was no question that he might find himself getting smacked upside the head if he said something wrong.

When it came to women, he liked to keep it casual and stuck with short term flings simply because his job was hard for some to chew and understand, but there were times where his current girlfriend would decide that she wanted more out of the relationship. Whether it was the desire to move in or meet each others parents or what, the notion of things going past casual quickly killed the mood and he called things off.

But Riley wasn't in the same category as those women had been. She was different, special. He didn't know exactly what feelings she had for him seeing as they didn't know each other too well, but he was curious to see where a relationship might go.

"I wouldn't do that to her," Piers promised, hoping to assure the Captain. "Now's not the time for a relationship, but… things would be different with Riley."

Chris stared at him for a long moment as if trying to find truth in his words on his face before passing judgment. He wasn't the woman's father, nor did Piers require his blessing to pursue her, but he'd rather have the go-ahead from Chris lest he face the repercussions of going behind his back.

After a moment, the older man sighed, "I'm holding you to that."

Somehow he made such a simple phrase sound like a threat.

Piers merely nodded and left the laundry room to find Riley and the other two women, feeling more guilty than he did going into the other room for snapping at her over his arm. He just didn't want to deal with his issues towards the new limb, let alone broadcast his problems with it to the others or have her bring it up as ammunition, whether she meant to or not.

Wandering into the living room, he found them sitting on the couch with Riley rambling away to who he presumed was Didi in Chinese. Whatever she was saying sounded positive at least, her tone light, so he hoped that meant all was going well.

She heard him come into the room and looked up, uncertainty on her face.

He walked over and Claire scooted over so he could sit beside her on the couch, and he gave the virologist a half smile, hoping that would be enough to convey that he wasn't going to argue further and that he was sorry, though he'd actually say it once she was off the phone.

To his relief, the meaning got through and she returned his smile before getting back to the conversation.

Sitting back, Piers made a list in his head of things he'd have to teach her before and during their journey to China and hoped that she was up to the challenge.

They had a lot of work to do.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **_**I'm trying not to let this story go weeks without an update again, and thus I've wrapped faster than anyone else in my house and have finished almost all my shopping in a matter of a few days. **_

_**Merry Christmas!**_

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Just as Riley suspected, Didi did not believe a word from the American and Chinese governments about her and Piers being terrorists and she was more than willing to help get the two of them into Lanshiang.

It would not be easy, however.

Didi had already made a trip into the quarantine zone of Lanshiang and confirmed that the BSAA and Chinese government were losing control of the situation and expanding the zone almost every hour. It was to the point where she almost didn't want to go into the area at all, but knowing that there were uninfected people in the city left Didi with no choice but to risk it and go in after them. She returned with nine people, all safe from infection, but she only just barely made it out. If it weren't for her friends in the military she wouldn't have gotten in at all, let alone made it out. But even with the risk, she was fairly certain that she could get them in, provided they made it to Hong Kong in one piece, if they could get there at all.

Though she understood the urgency of the situation, she needed to get in touch with her contacts in other countries before they could set about getting to China. She could get them into Lanshiang, but someone else had to get them to Hong Kong, and they wouldn't know for at least a day or two how they would be getting into China.

Piers didn't like hearing that in the slightest and the news that they'd have to "sit and wait" killed whatever positive mood was starting after his conversation with Chris. His frustration was evident on the ride to Claire's friend's house, and even more so after. His whole attitude had been rather foul since Chris said she could go to China, made worse by having to wait, but she suspected that there was more to it, and not just the effects of the gloomy weather.

As it had been pouring and thundering outside, they'd been able to keep the hoods of their coats over their heads without looking suspicious when they arrived at the house they would be hiding out at. It had electric and running water, and contrary to what Claire said, it did have furniture, just not very much – only a few chairs and a table – and that was okay with Riley. She was just happy that Claire's friends didn't buy into what was said about them and were still willing to let them hide out at their old place.

While she set up the airbed in the freshly painted bedroom, Piers went to work laying out the weapons Chris had given them to use, dragging the lone table into the corner of the living room. Upon returning, she found a batch of grenades, two combat knives, three handguns with laser-sights, two shotguns, an assault rifle, and an anti-materiel rifle – which managed to put a small smile on Piers' face – along with a bag full of ammunition all laid out on the table. Why Chris and Jill had an arsenal in their home was beyond her, but she couldn't say that she was upset about it. But while she was happy that they'd given them weapons, she was, however, also intimidated by them.

The moment he turned the living room into a makeshift training room with the few chairs they had available, he set to work teaching her how to handle a handgun safely and then the shotgun, before actually showing her how to aim properly and shoot. It was rather awkward, seeing as they obviously couldn't fire the guns in the house, and he stood behind her so that he could jerk the weapon back in a mock recoil whenever she pulled the trigger on the unloaded gun. She snickered when he first did it, finding it amusing, and was promptly snapped at for not taking the training seriously. After that she remained serious, if not a little irritated that he had been short with her since Chris gave her "permission" to accompany Piers to China.

She allowed him to seethe and snap at her while he helped her muddle along with the guns, but now that he was trying to show her how to fight decently she was getting fed up.

Falling on her rear for the seventh time, she panted tiredly, "Hang on a second. I need to catch my breath."

"A J'avo won't let you take a breath," Piers pointed out harshly, lunging for her.

Riley quickly and awkwardly rolled to the side like he showed her before rising uneasily to her feet. She knew he was just trying to teach her how to survive, but he wasn't the best teacher with his attitude.

Where was his composure and understanding?

She understood that she would be in for some rough lessons and that would push her, but this was ridiculous to say the least. The more she complained about how she needed a drink or how she needed to rest only made him attack her harder, push her far past her limits. They'd been at this for two hours, first with him making her do a series of exercises, then showing her a few key combat moves, until he'd finally dedicated the past hour to nonstop fighting – she felt like she was running on empty and would collapse any second. And she didn't look like the only one.

Despite all the dodging, she'd taken notice of how he constantly rolled his right arm and winced whenever he put too much weight on it or moved it too much. It had only started about half-an-hour ago, but she was worried that he was pushing not only her too far, but himself as well.

When he approached her, she threw a punch but he blocked her weak attack with ease. He grabbed her wrist before spinning her around to pin it behind her back, his free arm locking her against his chest.

"Don't leave yourself open like that," he hissed in her ear. "If you don't think you have the strength for a decent punch, try another means of attack."

More than a little pissed, she brought her foot down hard on his and he yelped, loosening his grip enough for her to break away and stumble back out of reach. He was lucky she didn't kick back and nail him in the groan.

Huffing and puffing, exhausted, she suggested, "Maybe we should both take a breather. You're favoring your right arm – I want to make sure it's okay."

"It's fine." His bitter tone did not go unnoticed.

She scowled at him. "Don't get mad at me, Piers, I'm trying to help."

"Just…" He grit his teeth. "Just correct your stance so we can get back to it."

As stubborn as ever, realizing that she probably looked like a young child not getting her way, she crossed her arms over her chest and replied tersely, "No. If you don't give a damn about your arm, fine, but I'm thirsty, I'm sore, and I'm tired. You want to teach me all this stuff? That's fine by me, but get it through your thick skull that I am not a soldier, Piers. I'm a fucking virologist and I need a God damn break!"

Piers blinked at her, surprised by her outburst.

Riley huffed irritably and stomped into the kitchen to get a glass of water, her face red from more than just the workout. She shouldn't have snapped, and "fuck" wasn't normally in her vocabulary, but she was exhausted and sore, and frustrated all to hell with Piers.

Taking a sip of the cool water, she sighed, wiping at the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand. Arms aching, she hoisted herself up onto the counter to sit, not feeling like sitting on the cold floor since all the chairs were in the other room, and kicked off her sneakers. She exercised regularly to stay in shape, but she typically only ran and did yoga. The "workout regimen" her friend had set up was downright insane. Not to mention she typically wore yoga pants when she was exercising. Rather than yoga pants, she was wearing dark jeans and they were irritating her legs. If Piers had given her a few seconds, she'd have changed, but he said something about her needing to get used to fighting in something other than workout gear.

A minute or so later, her drill sergeant walked into the kitchen, not nearly as sweaty as she was. She half expected him to chew her ass out, but to her relief he looked a little guilty, his hands in his pockets.

"Look, Riley," he started, calmer than he had been all day. "I didn't mean to push you or give you an attitude, okay? I just want to make sure you're ready when we get to China."

"Think you could do it without being a hardass?" she questioned, finishing her water. "What's your problem anyways? I get that you don't want me coming to China and have to give me a crash course in all this, but jeez, ease off."

Sifting his fingers through his hair, he released a long breath of frustration. "You speak Chinese, and that's undoubtedly going to be helpful, along with your medical knowledge, but…"

"But?" she pressed.

"I don't want to see you get hurt, that's all," he admitted somewhat reluctantly, moving over to the sink she sat next to in order to get some water. "I can't stand the thought of that happening to you, or you getting infected. I've seen too many friends and fellow soldiers die because of these viruses, and I've had to put down more than my fair share of friends because they were infected."

So that was the problem, or at least part of it. She didn't want to think about him killing friends because they were infected, but she knew what it was like to some extent. Not everyone she tried to help survived, and it always felt like she'd failed them somehow and quickened their death. It sucked to say the least.

"I'd say that I won't become infected to make you feel better, but we both know that neither of us can make that promise," she said gently, nudging his leg with her foot. "But regardless of whether I go or stay, I'm not safe. Merrick knows more about me than I'd care to think about and he'd figure out eventually that Chris or someone is hiding me. The last thing he'd suspect is me going with you to China. It might be safer for me to go with you in the long run, to be completely honest. And besides…" She reached into her glass of water, got her fingers wet, and then flicked the water at his face. "You'd go nuts without me, admit it."

The action broke the glum mood and he chuckled quietly, wiping his hand down his face. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"I'm always right."

"Whatever you say."

Smiling a bit, her frustration and anger ebbing away with each second, she took advantage of the improved mood and put her hand on his right shoulder. "How's the arm?"

He gave her a dirty look.

So much for the good mood.

"What's your problem with your arm, Piers? Seriously, I would think you'd be happy to have it back," she sighed, confused by his problem with it.

"It's not that I'm not happy to have my arm back," he argued wearily. Sighing, he shook his head. "I can't tell you what my problem is when I'm not even sure, all right?"

She didn't see how he couldn't know why it bothered him, but since she really didn't want to fight she let it slide. "Well, can you at least let me check over it without giving me an attitude? I just want to make sure you aren't doing anything hazardous."

"My entire job is hazardous, Riley," he pointed out dryly.

"Noted. Now, take your shirt of so I can get a better look at your shoulder," she ordered.

"Bossy woman," he muttered, but did as he was told and pulled his brown shirt over his head and tossed it onto the counter.

Riley had to take a second to remind herself that she was supposed to focus on his arm, not his chest, but it was impossible not to get a little sidetracked. The man wasn't as insanely buff as Chris, but he was still built and made up of hard muscle, his lightly tanned chest mirroring the flush on his face from the working along with a thin sheen of sweat. Granted she'd seen him without his shirt on while he was in quarantine, but that had been different. This situation was different.

"You planning to check my shoulder, or are you just going to stare all day?" Piers asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Her green eyes met his, and upon seeing the knowing smirk she blushed bright red. "Shut up," she mumbled, embarrassed, and put her hands on his shoulder to search for the source of the discomfort.

His smirk turned into a smile. "Admit it. You didn't want to check my shoulder at all, you just wanted my shirt off."

"Shut up," she snapped without bite, poking him hard in the chest.

He chuckled and rubbed the spot she poked.

Still horribly embarrassed, she kept her eyes locked on his shoulder while she dug her fingers into the muscle. At least he was smiling again, that was a plus, but she couldn't say how long the smile stay. His mood swings today were giving her whiplash. One second he was pissed, the next he was apologetic, then he was cranky again, and now he was smiling and teasing her. He was going to drive her nuts.

Piers winced when she rotated his arm, and she asked, "Hurt?"

"A little. Feels like the muscles are too tight or something."

"Where? Along the scars or somewhere else?" she asked.

Looking at his shoulder, he shrugged, "Where the scars are. The whole arm doesn't feel as strong as it used to, but that's not the issue I'm having. It's cramping up at the shoulder – that's the only word I can think of to describe it."

That made her believe more strongly that it was the scar tissue in the muscles and bone giving him trouble and nothing more serious. Unfortunately, she still couldn't say for sure if the aches and pains were permanent or temporary. Scars in muscles could heal properly with some treatment, but these scars were even in the bone and none of them were exactly normal. As human as the scars might seem, they'd once been mutated flesh and bone. There was no telling how they would do with time.

"If you had to rate the pain on a scale of one to ten – one being hardly noticeable and ten being unbearable – what would it be?" she questioned, rotating his arm again.

Wincing, he replied, "About a seven, though it probably hit an eight a few times during our workout."

Riley worried on her lower lip and nodded, staring at his arm. She had some Advil, but nothing that would deal with it quickly. She could, however, do something to at least ease some of the pain in his shoulder.

"Come here," she instructed, flattening her leg against the counter until he stood directly in front of her, at which point she relaxed her leg so that both dangled on either side of his hips against the counter.

"Uh, any particular reason I'm between your legs, Riley?" he asked, both curious and suggestive in a way that made her blush return.

"Shut up and turn this way," she mumbled, turning him a bit so that his right side was angled towards her.

Bringing her hands back to his shoulder, she began to firmly knead the muscles with her fingers and palm of her hands, following the scars where the tension lay. A look of discomfort flickered across his face, but she continued. It was bound to be uncomfortable for a moment or two, but she hoped that it would dissipate the longer she worked at the muscle. Massaging scarred muscles to promote proper healing by breaking up the scars was a treatment anyone could do, but should probably be done by a physical therapist who specialized in it. Though she wasn't a physical therapist, she did learn a thing or two about giving muscle massages during med-school, so she was the next best thing apart from seeing a therapist. Whether she had a medical license or not was irrelevant, however, since she knew that any kind massage to aching muscles could be a welcome relief, recalling the excruciating growing pains she'd had in her legs as a kid.

A short time later, the young man released a long sigh, causing her lips to turn up in a small smile.

"Feeling any better?" she asked.

"Much," he replied. "You learn that in medical school?"

"Sort of. I mean, yeah, I learned how to give a proper muscle massage, but it wasn't because it was required. I more or less took a few classes in physical therapy because I wanted to." Shrugging, she added with a half-smile, "I enjoyed it, but it sure didn't ease my study load."

"No," he agreed with a smile. "I bet it didn't."

Piers turned his attention to her hands, and his smile softened when he notices that she'd ceased massaging and began tracing the scars gently with her fingers.

Since his smile had only become smaller and hadn't actually disappeared, Riley took that as a sign that he didn't mind what she was doing and continued. She'd seen the scars, but now that she was looking at them without being his doctor, they almost seemed different. They were still thin scars that were a shade lighter than the rest of his skin, they still formed a spider web-like patter down his chest, back, shoulder, and part of the right side of his face, but something was different. Something about them _hurt_, and she cringed thinking about how Chris said that Piers became infected, how he'd tore away from his own arm, how she'd had the surgeons leave some mutated flesh and bone behind in an attempt to keep him from mutating any further. She thought about it all, and it broke her heart to think about what he'd been forced to go through.

Seeing her pained expression, he said quietly, "Hey, don't blame yourself for any of this."

"I'm not," she assured him, worrying her lower lip once more. "Just thinking about… about the C-Virus and what you did to save Chris. You don't, well… I mean, I'm not saying anyone deserves to go through what you did, but… as far as I'm concerned, you deserved it least of all." Dropping her hands to her lap, she shook her head with a nervous, sad laugh. "I really know how to bring down the mood, don't I? I'm almost as bad as you about it.""

Rather than reply, Piers raised his hand to brush his fingers against the bandages on her chest, mimicking what she'd done. "Neither of us deserves what's happened," he declared quietly.

"We just have to move on, right? Reveal Merrick's connection to Neo-Umbrella and get on with our live?" she suggested, only half believing that she could actually move on from what's already happened.

"Yeah," he agreed softly, eyes locked on hers. "Move on."

Her skin heated up under his intense gaze, and she shifted a bit, acutely uncomfortable and anxious all of a sudden.

Hating how the silence dragged on for a few seconds, she nervously broke it and said, "I, uh, I think I'm going to go take a shower." Pressing her hand against his chest, she pushed him away enough for her to hop off the counter, though he didn't move any further. Swallowing, she continued, "Because, you know, I'm all sweaty, so, um, I'm certain I don't smell great, so… yeah, I need a shower. I'll just be –"

"You really need to quite rambling," Piers interrupted throatily, and before Riley could comprehend the action, his hands were on either side of her face and he half dragged her up to meet his waiting lips.

A kiss was the _last_ thing she'd expected, and for a handful of seconds she didn't react, didn't blink, and didn't breathe. She did nothing but stare at him with wide green eyes while his lips pressed tentatively against hers.

Mistaking her lack of response for rejection, Piers hands loosened their grip on her cheeks and dropped his hands to her shoulders as he started pulling away.

This was what Riley had thought of since meeting him in Edonia, what she'd wanted since getting to know him better in the quarantine zone of the BSAA, and what she'd desired since waking up tangled with him earlier that morning. Yet here she was, as stiff as a board and feeding him false signals. She'd chickened out last night and regretted it, but she'd be damned if she was going to shy away this time.

Finally willing her body to move, she reached up and threaded her fingers of one hand through his short hair and pulled him back down to her, kissing him softly but surely while her other hand went to the back of his neck to keep him from moving away. Her cheeks burned at her action, never one to be too bold with men – hence why she diverted from a real kiss last night – and she silently prayed that she wasn't making a fool out of herself.

Piers froze in surprise but remained frozen for far less time than she had and quickly encased her in his arms, palms splayed at her middle and lower back as he hauled her closer, his heated chest burning her through her tank top. Eagerly, he returned her kiss wholeheartedly, his lips like a brand on hers.

The counter pressed firmly against her rear and it occurred to her that he'd backed up the few inches so that she was sufficiently pinned between it and him with nowhere to go, and the thought sent a thrill through her entire being and set her blood on fire. She gasped when the tip of his tongue ran across her lower lip and moaned when he sucked the lip she constantly worried when nervous or anxious.

Jill had joked with her once about how one kiss could make you come undone when talking about Chris – something she hated since she'd been unable to look at her friend without getting an unwanted image – but Riley never put much stock in it. She'd been kissed plenty of times by boyfriends, but while it was pleasant, it wasn't overly remarkable.

But this…

It was silly and cliché, but the way Piers' kissed her made her feel whole and genuinely cared for, his mouth melding with hers perfectly in a way that made her tremble. There was no question about it – she would never be able to kiss another man without thinking about Piers.

Had it not been for the need for air she would have gladly kissed him for hours and hours, but, as her lungs started to ache with her rising heartbeat and lack of air, she knew she had to pull away. And if they kept kissing the way they were – Piers nipping at her lower lip, his hands now so very low on her hips as she tugged him closer and ever so slightly hooked one leg around his while he kept her pressed against the counter…

With great reluctance, she tore her swollen lips from his and sucked in the much needed, hated air. Piers too took a breath, cheeks flushed and lips redder than before, but did not allow any air between their bodies, desiring to keep her as close as possible for as long as possible.

He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed with a small smile. "I think I found a cure for your rambling."

"Yeah, guess so," she replied with a smile of her own. Releasing a long breath, she lowered her head to his chest, eyes closed as she listened to his racing heart. "How exactly is… is whatever this is going to work, Piers?" She didn't want to ask, but she had to.

He was silent for a moment before he admitted, "I'm not sure. With what's going on, there isn't much room for a relationship, and I don't exactly have the best track record with women, but on the other hand Chris will kick my ass if he finds out I kissed you and walked away from you."

Frowning, she raised her head and looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"He gave me his version of the 'you break her heart and I'll break your neck' speech back at his place before we left."

"Why am I not surprised," Riley groaned, embarrassed, but also encouraged. Chris wouldn't have made a threat like that if he hadn't thought Piers was interested in her, and the thought that he was made her heart flutter. But he was right about this not being the time for anything serious.

"I want to be with you, Riley, I really do," he insisted, seeing the torn look on her face. "I just don't know how we could make anything work during all of this chaos."

She nodded, but though she knew he was right, she didn't want to have nothing with him. After a moment's thought, she said, "Then how about we just wing it. Go with the flow, so to speak. We remain open to the idea of being in a relationship once everything's dealt with, but whatever happens between now and then just happens. No strings attached, no promises, just an open mind. And if things don't work out by then, then uh, no hard feelings."

He arched an eyebrow at her shocking proposal, and then asked seriously, "You mean to say that if we were to have sex between now and then and I decided that I didn't want a relationship, you'd be fine with that?"

An ache settled in her chest at his words and a blush formed on her cheeks. The notion that he'd just walk away if they slept together once all was said and done with Merrick hurt, as did the ease at which he'd asked his question.

"No, I guess I wouldn't be," she admitted quietly, diverting her eyes.

Piers nodded, not surprised by her admission, and fell silent for a bit. Resting his chin on her head, his strong fingers flexed against her hips and he shifted a bit. "We'll try it your way," he began at last, tone soft. "We'll get to know each other during all of this, and whatever happens simply happens. But you should know that I've wanted to ask you out since that Independence Day party last year."

Blinking, she raised her eyes to his, forcing his chin off her head, and said, "I wasn't in the States for the party. We didn't even meet until Edonia."

"I know, and it was damn disappointing. I'd been eager to meet you, but you weren't there, so I had to settle with listening to Jill and Claire tell me about you," he explained, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't intend to just up and walk away when all of this is over, but that I do think it's a good idea to just let things happen as they happen before then. It's not like I can take you out for that dinner I promised, anyways."

A smile tugged at her lips and she nodded. "Yeah, I suppose you can't. And just so you know, the disappointment in regards to that party is mutual," she confessed, blushing only slightly.

He too smiled a small smile, and then asked, "So we take things as they go?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I think that'll be easier for us while all of this is going on."

"All right, then it's settled," he finalized, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He then pulled a face and took a step back, fighting to keep the smile off his face, and said, "But you really should take a shower. What you said about not smelling great is… yeah."

"You ass!" Riley snapped and slapped his chest, laughing. "You don't exactly smell like roses either, buddy."

All he did was laugh in response and moved aside to let her walk away to the bathroom.

Shutting the door behind her, Riley leaned back against it with a soft smile still on her face. She was sore, stiff, and tired, but she couldn't recall feeling happier. Given the circumstances, it was odd that she was happy at all, but she was. She only hoped that their decision wouldn't blow up in their faces.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_

**A/N:**_** I'll try to update soon, but in the meantime I have another **_**Resident Evil**_** fanfic you might find interesting titled **_**"Unexpected Kindness"**_** set in the movie universe with Alice and Leon.  
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	15. Chapter 15

Riley was thoroughly impressed with the weapons they had, though unsure when it came to using them, but Piers was rather concerned by what they had.

Guns weren't the issue, but the amount of ammunition was. They would need as much ammo as possible for China, but after what he'd seen he feared that they wouldn't have enough. The cold and harsh fact, however, was that they'd probably be able to pick spare ammunition off the bodies of dead soldiers once they reached Lanshiang. He didn't condone looting, but he really didn't see any other option, and they would need the bullets.

Signing, he double checked the shotgun he'd just cleaned before setting it to the side to work on the anti-material rifle. The handguns had yet to be cleaned, but he wanted to wait for Riley to join him before he set to work on those, having already decided that she needed to know how to clean a gun. It would be a fairly easy lesson given that Chris and Jill kept their weapons in prime condition. There wasn't anything that needed to be cleaned actually, but it gave him something to focus on.

His arm was still bugging him, but not to any painful degree. It was more like a knot in a muscle that he'd grown used to. That didn't make it comfortable, though. Riley massaging the shoulder had helped a great deal and loosened up the muscle, but the ache came back shortly after. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was becoming increasingly worried about what was going on with his arm. The regeneration of his arm was a miracle in his book, but he'd be a fool to think that everything would be fine with the limb, and maybe that was his problem. The absence of old scars and lack of strength were disheartening, but perhaps the source of his anger towards the new arm was that he was expecting something to go terribly wrong with it at any given second.

The thought crossed his mind that he should probably bring up his concerns to Riley, but he pushed that thought away the second it came up. She had enough on her plate without him adding to it. As it was, their new "no strings attached" relationship would likely make things more difficult in the long run.

Leaning back in his chair, setting the already clean rifle down, he mulled over their decision. He was happy that he could, at least partly, call her his girl now, but there was no guarantee that she would stay that way once the whole fiasco was dealt with. Of course they both hoped for the best, but a relationship born from chaos and adrenaline wouldn't be the same once they were free – if they were even able to clear their names. Would they still want to be together, or would they find that it was just fear and loneliness that brought them together? He really couldn't say. All he knew was that he at least had wanted to be with her in some way, shape, or form for a long time and intended to try his hardest to make whatever they had work once everything was over. He could only hope that she felt the same.

He tapped on the rifle idly, unable to find a reason to clean the already pristine weapon now that his thoughts had wondered towards the woman in the shower down the hall.

Turning his eyes toward the hallway, it crossed his mind that he could probably get away with slipping into that shower with her. Heaven knows he wanted to. Having her pressed up against that counter, her soft curves pressing firmly against his hard body, and that long leg of hers hooking just slightly around his to draw him closer while her fingers tightened in his hair…

Swallowing thickly, he quickly looked back to the weapon before rising to his feet to walk around, working hard to clear his head of the images that had invaded. He couldn't just waltz on into the shower with her because he knew for sure that only one thing would result from that action. Just because she'd implied – however indirectly – that they could have sex with "no strings attached" did not mean that he would just take her then and there because he could. Though he couldn't say for certain that they would have a relationship once everything was over, he hoped they would and wasn't about to screw things up by screwing her in the shower just to satisfy his urges.

Down the hall, the shower shut off finally and a few minutes later Riley stepped out in a clean white tank top and jeans, feet bare and water dripping from her soaked hair. She shivered and walked over to the sink to twist and wring the water from her hair.

"No towels," she explained. "Gotta remember that we aren't in a five star hotel."

"Here I was looking forward to chocolate on the pillow."

She snorted. "Please, hotel chocolate is nasty. Unless it's a Hershey's Kiss I won't eat it."

He chuckled, making a mental note that she liked Hershey's Kisses, and then asked while watching her wring out her hair, "Why didn't you just do that in the bathroom?"

Shrugging, she replied, "It got too hot in there with all the steam. Only stayed in there long enough to get these all bandaged." She waved her finger around at the punctures and scratches on her chest before adjusting her tank top in an attempt to hide them better.

The action sent a sharp sting to his heart and he placed his hand on her shoulder, moving his thumb in small circles and offering her comfort through contact. He could say that she'd get used to the scars that would be left behind, he could tell her that they might go away altogether, but it probably wouldn't help much. Scars, however permanent or temporary, could do a number on people, and hers had been inflicted with significant cruelty.

She glanced at his hand before meeting his hazel eyes, a small smile dancing on her lips. Reaching up, she gave his hand a light squeeze.

"I think there's still some hot water left if you want to go take one," she suggested. "Like I said, you don't smell like roses."

He foresaw a cold shower in his future, but rather than speak that he said, "Later. Right now I want to show you something."

Slipping his hand from her shoulder, he walked back over to the table and took a seat, setting one handgun in front of himself and another in front of the chair beside him.

Riley sighed, sitting in the seat beside him, and said, "Okay, but the moment you turn into an asshole I'm authorized to slap you."

"Unless you're completely incompetent, this shouldn't make me lose my temper," he assured her. "I just want to show you how to clean a gun – basic stuff."

She nodded and picked up the handgun and stared at it for a moment, studying it, and he watched her for a few seconds as she tested its weight as she'd done earlier. There was a noticeable amount of uncertainty in how she held it but she said nothing. Maybe she was trying to act more confident than she felt, but he wanted her to be comfortable with it. That was the only way she'd be able to make a shot count when she eventually had to pull the trigger.

"We'll go slow. I'll show you how to take it apart and clean it, then put it back together, but then I want you to do it by yourself, okay?" he asked.

Breathing out a long sigh, she nodded. "Okay."

"Good," Piers began. After making sure he had all the supplies laid out in front of them, he said, "All right, first, check the chamber and make sure it's unloaded."

"I already know that it's unloaded," she stated.

"Is it?"

Frowning, Riley checked the chamber and a bullet was ejected. When she ejected the magazine, she found that it was full.

"You can assume it's empty all you want, but you need to check it every single time you clean it just to be safe. I put a full mag in the gun and loaded the chamber to prove a point – better safe than sorry." Once he did the same with his gun, he continued, "Next, we disassemble the gun."

For the next half hour, he helped her properly clean the handgun, explaining each step with great detail. She caught on fairly quick, considering taking it apart and putting it back together to be like a puzzle, and she mimicked how he cleaned the gun fairly well. There were a few times where he had to correct her, but she was far more comfortable handling a gun in the manner she was now than she was earlier.

Until it came to doing it all by herself. That was when she faltered.

Riley made a few mistakes while taking it apart, but after taking a second she would figure out what her mistake was and corrected it. Cleaning the gun took longer than it probably should have, but she was still thorough and made sure she did it correctly. After she was done cleaning it she took a moment to inspect her work and think about how to put it back together. That took longer than taking it apart. If he wanted to, Piers probably could have taken a shower in the time it was taking her. She was being thorough and trying hard to do it right, but she was taking forever. If he were doing it, it would only take him a few minutes.

"Done," the blond virologist announced finally. Wiping her fingers on a paper towel, she pushed the gun towards him so he could inspected.

He looked it over closely before nodding. "Not bad. You just have to work on being quicker at putting it back together."

"If I'm cleaning it what hurry is there in putting it back together?" she questioned. "Obviously I have time."

"Not necessarily," Piers argued calmly. "One night during our first week in Edonia, Chris and I were relaxing with the rest of the team and cleaning our weapons. We were in what had been designated as a safe zone. Around eight at night, J'avo hit us with a sneak attack and we had to put our guns back together in minutes or less. Never think you have time to spare."

Riley worried on her lower lip and shook her head. "You talk about this stuff like it's just the weather."

"And you talk about viruses, cures, and the science behind infection the same way," he pointed out with a shrug. "We both have something we're good at. You're good at healing the infected. I'm good at killing them."

"Yeah, well, I'm hoping that if I can get my hands on the layout for the C-Virus cure you won't have to kill every single person who's infected," she said, sitting back in her chair.

Piers sighed. "Don't tell me you're one of those people against killing the infected because they can miraculously be saved," he pleaded lowly. He'd come across more than one group who swore up and down that the infected could still think and be saved, even the ones who were shooting and trying to kill innocent people. Hell, some people thought that the undead could be saved! Only thing that could save the undead was a bullet to the brain or a snapped neck.

"No, I understand that some people who are infected obviously can't be saved, but not everyone reacts to the infection the same way," she argued, shifting on the chair so that she was facing him. "Think about it, Piers. You were infected on a massive level with an advanced C-Virus strain, and yet you were able to maintain your humanity, what makes you who you are! If I can make the cure Merrick used on you then we won't have to kill the people who are infected but haven't… lost themselves yet. If they can even think independently to some notable degree, I can treat them with my suppressant, take them into surgery to remove any visible deformities, allow them to heal, and then give them the cure," she explained adamantly, passionately. "I'm all for killing the once human BOWs who aren't people anymore, the infected who aren't themselves anymore, the creatures, and the undead – they can't be saved, I understand that. But some people can be saved, Piers! You're proof of that!"

Riley was unique, that was for certain. While she wasn't stupid enough to believe that every single BOW, the undead, or the infected could be saved, she wanted to save the ones who could still think. Those like him. He didn't like that she'd used him in the example, but there was no reason for her not to. As of yet, he was the only one to have been treated with the cure. Her hopes were justifiable, and maybe she could save some, but he didn't believe it.

Too many times he'd seen people get infected, remain who they were for a short time, only to turn seconds or minutes later. He honestly believed that the only reason he didn't "lose himself" was because of Riley's C-Virus suppressant. If he hadn't gotten to her when he did, he was certain he'd be a lost cause. But Simmons remained himself throughout the duration of his infected – who was he to suggest that others wouldn't?

There were just too many variables for him to completely agree that the majorly infected, that some J'avo, could be saved.

Reading his expression, the virologist sighed. "You think I'm nuts."

"No, no, I don't, I just…" he trailed off, choosing his words carefully. He had a bad habit of pissing her off with the wrong words or even a look. "The newly infected should be treated with a cure, I agree with that, but you're telling me that some J'avo, BOWs, anyone infected but can still think like a human to some degree can be treated and cured. The very things that I fight on a regular basis and have seen kill civilians, soldiers, and friends. That's a hell of a lot to swallow."

"It's not their fault, Piers," she reasoned gently, reaching out and placed her hand on his closed fist on the table. "If… if you'd have turned completely and killed people, that wouldn't be your fault – it'd be the fault of what you became. It wouldn't have been you hurting people, it would have been the thing you'd have become. Simple as that."

_Simple as that?_

"It's not as simple as that, Riley!" he snapped, yanking his hand out from under hers and rising from the chair. Hands on his hips, he walked over to the door frame and leaned back against it. "I can keep my cool better than most – better than Chris – if a friend or squad mate becomes infected and has to be put down, but it hurts like hell and their faces haunt you every time you close your eyes. You can separate their actions from being those of your friend and those of your now infected friend, but they are still the actions of your friend, and in the end you still kill _your friend _who you've seen murder people. Until you've had to kill a friend who's turned, you can't understand that."

Riley said nothing the whole time and allowed him to vent at her. Maybe she understood that his feelings were aimed towards him having to kill friends, maybe she didn't. Either way she wouldn't understand until she had to do it.

Breaking the uncomfortable silence, she asked quietly, "So you think that anyone under the influence of a virus, whether there are semi-competent or not, should just be killed because they've murdered people?"

He nodded, though he only believed it a little bit.

"Okay," she began tightly, tone low. "In that case you should go kill Jill."

Piers snapped his head in her direction. "What was that?"

"You heard me. Jill was under the influence of a virus with the P30 device on her chest and killed people. Given what you believe, shouldn't she be killed? Shouldn't Chris have killed her when she attacked him?" she demanded.

His mouth opened then closed.

Jill had killed people while under Wesker's control, he knew that, but he never thought about it in regards to how he felt about everyone else who was infected. From what he knew, she'd been as ruthless and deadly as could be while under his control, only showing a fraction of her true self when Chris spoke to her at some point, and returned to being who she was when he ripped the device off her. She was saved and forgiven for her crimes by Chris and the whole BSAA because she hadn't been herself when she committed them. While Piers knew of some of what she'd done, he didn't blame her for it either. It stood in contrast to what he somewhat believed.

"That's different," he argued slowly, trying to make sense of things. "Her infection… she wasn't at a dead end. It was the device controlling her actions."

Riley shook her head unhappy with his answer.

Rising to her feet, she padded over until she stood directly in front of him. She said nothing for a few seconds, worrying on her lower lip, before she asked tentatively, "If I were infected with the C-Virus and wasn't entirely myself but could still think a little, would you… I mean, even if there was a chance to save me, would you… would you kill me?"

Piers' mouth went dry and a lump lodged in his throat at the mere thought of her being infected and hurting people. He wanted to say that he'd put her out of her misery, that he'd spare her the fate of living with the memories of what she'd done, but the thought of putting a bullet in her head, of killing her…

Unable to say anything, he shook his head.

A small, genuine small tugged at her lips and she leaned forward against his chest, and his arms went around her tightly.

"If I'm completely gone, I do want you to kill me," she murmured against his chest. "If I can be saved, I want to be saved, but if not…"

She didn't have to finish and he only held her tighter. "Same goes for me."

They stood like that for a few minutes, neither saying anything for fear of starting an argument. It seemed like they both had a talent for saying something the other didn't like.

"Why don't you go shower?" Riley suggested after a short while, pulling away fractionally. "I'll order us some pizza or something."

In need of a shower and also hungry, he nodded, then said, "Make sure you tell the pizza place to leave the pizza at the door and that cash will be under the mat. We can't let anyone see our faces. Just make something up."

"I will." Craning her head to place a kiss on his jaw, she moved out of his arms and went in search for the prepaid cell phone Jill had given her prior to leaving.

Walking down the hall, his thoughts wandered to the words they'd just exchanged.

Piers still believed that not all of the infected and BOWs could be saved, whether they retained some of who they were or not. Sometimes one could speak their mind, be who they were, but be unable to control their actions. In that case, no matter how much it hurt or was wrong, they had to be killed. It was perhaps cold and cruel, but it was a fact. He only hoped that Riley would understand that soon. But while he was right, she was also right. He was wrong, and she was wrong. It was all a matter of opinion based off different experiences.

This was all giving him a headache, so he hastily stripped once in the bathroom and got in the shower, allowing the cool water to wash away his concerns if only for a while.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **_**This chapter is rated a **_**M**_** for a reason people – read at your own risk! I've kept it as tasteful as possible, meaning that I'm not using raunchy words or going into immense description. You'll definitely know what you're reading, but it won't be insanely explicit (at least I hope not). **_

_**And one other thing, I have a fairly bad case of the flu so I'm going to take at least a week off of serious writing. You know, I might write a paragraph here and there, but I'm not going to be sitting at my desk for who-knows-how-long writing until I'm feeling better. Because of that, an update might take a while.**_

**Disclaimer Update: **_**I do not own **_**Resident Evil**_**. I'm just playing in the sandbox.**_

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Pizza had never tasted as good as it did now.

Riley felt as if she hadn't eaten in days, and in truth she really hadn't. The last full meal she had was the day prior to Piers arriving at the BSAA. Ever since then she'd been living off of cafeteria food and not even eating all the contents of her orders. It was better than most cafeteria food, but it was still cafeteria food. Now she had a slice of peperoni pizza in her hand and it tasted like a gift from God himself.

Since she didn't know if they'd be staying in the house for one or two days, she ordered two large peperoni pizzas – making sure to leave more than enough cash under the mat outside the door. Both she and Piers inhaled more than a few slices the moment the food was inside, both incredibly hungry, and stuffed the rest in the empty refrigerator.

By nine o'clock at night, she found that she was hungry again and grabbed a slice out of the fridge, not bothering to find something to set it on for the microwave and opted to eat it cold. Eating cold pizza was something her father had gotten her into while her sister and mother thought it was nasty. She loved it, though, and eagerly took another bite.

"Where the hell do you put all that food?" Piers questioned, stepping into the kitchen for a glass of water. "You've eaten more than I have."

Shrugging, she replied, "I have a fast metabolism. Besides, I'm hungry." She took another bite of pizza before adding around a mouthful, "I always keep fruit around my apartment because I always get a little hungry throughout the day, but this'll have to do. Hell, it's not like I won't work it off with you later."

Piers arched a brow at her and smirked.

Immediately she turned bright red when she realized how he took what she said. "That is _not _what I meant! I was just saying that, um, you know, you were saying that you wanted to do another series of exercises before turning in for the night, so, yeah, I'm going to shut up now." Hastily, she ate the last bite of pizza so that she'd have an excuse to keep her mouth shut.

Only with Piers could she embarrass herself so much with one sentence.

The sniper laughed at her reaction and walked over to the sink to get some water. After taking a long drink, he said, "I was actually thinking that we should save running some drills for the morning, if that's fine with you."

"Yeah, but you seemed adamant about keeping with your schedule," she replied. Frowning, she looked to his shoulder, noticed how he was holding his arm against his torso, and asked, "Is it your arm?"

Reluctantly, he nodded and said, "It's just sore from all the stress I put it through today. I've got to get used to it, but I don't need to pull a muscle before China. Might as well call it a night."

While she internally jumped for joy with the knowledge that she wouldn't be as sore as hell going to bed she didn't like that he'd called off the exercising because of his arm. It had to be bothering him more than a little if he'd called it off.

"When we meet up with Didi in China I'm going to see if we can use some of her resources to get an x-ray or your arm before we move into Lanshiang as well as get her opinion," she said, wiping her hands with a paper towel. "I want to know just what is going on with that arm."

"I thought you said scar tissue was the problem?"

"That's what I think, but it shouldn't be bothering you this much. I just want to be sure that it's nothing more serious," she explained.

"I'm not sure going into a Chinese hospital for an x-ray is the smartest thing to do, given that all of China probably knows what we look like by now," he commented uncertainly.

Riley replied, "We wouldn't be going to a hospital. Didi and her friends have had equipment donated to them over the years by those sympathetic to what she's doing. She gives the more cumbersome equipment to the stationary branches of the group."

Taking a drink of water and leaning back against the counter, Piers observed, "It sounds more like she's working for a corporation than a relief group."

"That's only because a lot of people value what the group is doing," she explained, walking over to lean back beside him at the counter. "A lot of people would be dead if she and her buddies didn't step in with or without permission. It doesn't exactly make them popular with the government, but they don't give a damn. All she and the others care about is helping people, you know?"

He nodded mutely, having a good grasp what she meant. "Doing the right thing sometimes put one at odds with people or even a whole government given that what needs to be done isn't always permitted, or smiled upon." Glancing at her, he added, "I've never pissed off the government with doing the right thing, unless you count what's going on right now, but my father doesn't exactly approve of me being with the BSAA."

"Why not?" she asked curiously.

"He believes it's a waste of resources when the _real_ military can handle everything the BSAA does. He wasn't happy with me being in the Army and not the Marines, but he tolerated it because I was serving the country. When I opted to leave the Army for the BSAA after the opportunity came, he had enough and we hardly speak two friendly words to each other during family gatherings and don't talk at all between then." Piers shrugged. "All I'm saying is doing the right thing doesn't always make people happy, so I kind of understand where Didi's coming from."

"Seems like that's something else we have in common," Riley observed. "My mother hates that I'm with the BSAA, but for a different reason. She thinks my time would be better spent running her department store with her as a sort of mother/daughter business. She doesn't like me involving myself with 'sick people', as she calls the infected. She'd rather I catered to the rich and whatnot if I feel so _compelled_ to work in the medical field. She's told me more than once that she doesn't want me fucking over my life like my father did with his. Gives you an idea of what kind of woman she is."

"She sounds wonderful," he said sarcastically. Though he didn't think time should be wasted on his arm, he didn't want to argue with her either so he added, "I'll let Didi take an x-ray of my arm, but only if it doesn't jeopardize getting to Lanshiang. If we don't have the time to spare or it may somehow keep us from getting there, we won't be able to risk it."

Riley nodded, accepting his terms without questioning them. Maybe it was because of the dire need to get to Lanshiang that she agreed so easily, or maybe it was because she didn't want to question him and risk him refusing altogether. It was more than likely a bit of both.

"Have you heard from Didi yet?" Piers asked.

She shook her head and replied, "Not yet. I'd call and see how things are looking for us, but she told me not to. She doesn't want me to use the phone any more than necessary. I told her that it was a pre-paid cell phone and that no one but Chris, Jill, Claire, and her know the number, but she doesn't care."

"Pre-paid phones are good but not foolproof," he pointed out. Taking one last drink, he emptied the remaining water into the sink before leaning back against it.

"Still," she began, sighing and crossing her arms over her chest. "I might not be the most social person on the planet but I'm already going stir crazy."

"It's hardly been a day."

"Yes, but you're talking to someone who is constantly working around people for a majority of the day. I don't socialize much at work, but I am always around people." Turning to lean back on her elbows against the counter, she threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. "You're great, don't get me wrong, but I'm used to being around people all the time."

She could count on one hand how many people she socialized with at work on a personal level, but she was _always _talking to someone about something, _always _interacting with people. To be cooped up in a house all day with no clue as to when she'd be able to have a life again was driving her nuts. As much as she enjoyed Piers' company, she wanted to be around people. Maybe it was the notion that she couldn't just go out and be a part of society that was making her stir crazy.

"If we play our cards right, both of us will have our lives back soon," he assured her, hooking his arm around her and running his hand down her side to her hip in a comforting manner.

An irritating tingling sensation followed his hand and she squirmed away.

"Don't touch my sides, please," she warned, straightening her tank top.

"Why?" Genuine confusion turned to realization and he smiled wickedly. "So, Dr. Riley Conway is ticklish, huh?"

Catching the evil glint in his hazel eyes, Riley jumped away from the counter just as he made to grab her. She pointed at him in warning even while she was smiling, and snapped, "Don't even think about it, Piers!"

"Come on, how ticklish are you?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear, and reached for her again.

She jumped back to avoid him, only this time he continued coming towards her slowly like a predator ready to pounce. "Very, so do not – I repeat, _do not_ – tickle me, Piers, I mean it! I hate being tickled." He kept advancing so she snapped again, more seriously, "I mean it, Piers, stop it!"

"Or you'll what?" he pressed, moving ever closer and backing her into the hallway.

Piers outweighed her, was stronger, and could easily overpower her if she gave him the opening. She'd been at the mercy of her sister and dad tickling the hell out of her as a kid and she did not want it happening again.

Glancing at the door to the bedroom and the other to the bathroom, she debated on which one to run to. Both doors had locks so if she could just get in and lock the door before he caught her she could just wait him out until his urge to tickle her had passed.

The bedroom was closer than the bathroom, so the bedroom it was.

Mind made up, she bolted down the hall towards the bedroom, heavy footsteps close behind her forcing her to run faster. She reached the bedroom with seconds to spare but her socks caused her to slip on the hardwood and she had to hold onto the doorknob to keep from falling.

"Shit!" she swore on a laugh, managing to regain her balance, but those seconds she'd had to spare were gone and she suddenly found herself encased by Piers' strong arms around her waist as he lifted her off the floor and carried her further into the near-empty room. "No! Put me down!" she begged, kicking her legs and squirming in hopes that he would drop her so she could make an escape.

"If you insist."

He abruptly let go and dropped her onto the air mattress, and she bounced slightly with a surprised gasp.

Before she could scramble away to safety, Piers grabbed her by the calf of her right leg and yanked her back towards him, flipping her onto her back, then pulled her under him by her hips and pinned her smaller body with his weight, straddling her at the hips. Once he was certain he had her under his control, he mercilessly ran his fingers up and down her ribs.

"No!" she screeched, laughing so hard that she couldn't breathe, and she squirmed like mad beneath him.

It tickled so much it almost hurt and she slapped at his hands, grabbing them and trying to prevent him from getting to the sensitive skin of her sides beneath the shirt.

He ceased his torment only so that he could grab her hands and pin them above her head with his left before slipping his right under her shirt to bring the torture to new heights.

She kicked and squirmed, pulled against his hand that held her wrists, tears escaping her eyes from laughing so hard. It was impossible for her to form a sentence, much less take a full breathe, and she resorted to arching her body in an attempt to buck him off.

Planting her feet on the air mattress – which she half expected to pop with all the thrashing about – she lifted her hips sharply, hoping to catch him off guard and give her the opening to get away.

The move did catch him off guard.

Having not expected the action, Piers removed his hand from her shirt and placed it beside her head when he fell forward a bit to keep from falling on her. That was about the time they realized just how intimate a position they were in.

Riley's chest heaved from laughing so hard, her heart pounding, but she felt her cheeks flush for an entirely different reason. She'd been so intent on getting him to stop tickling her that she hadn't noticed before, but now it was impossible not to notice.

Piers was on top of her, hips pressed firmly against her own to keep her down, holding her arms over her head while his other hand was planted beside her head to keep their faces a few inches apart.

Sighing, he released her hands and balanced himself on his elbows on either side of her head. "You had to pick the bedroom, didn't you?" he asked quietly, brushing some hair away from her face.

She replied nervously, "It was, uh, it was closer than the bathroom. I was going to lock you out."

"Do you wish you picked the bathroom instead?"

Looking up at him, she had to wonder if there was another meaning behind his question if only because his voice held a husky note that hadn't been there earlier.

Had she ran into the bathroom instead he probably would have still caught her, but he wouldn't have dropped her to the floor. He'd have likely just pinned her somewhere to tickle her senseless before calling it quits. Maybe they would have been in an intimate position, but she couldn't see it happening in there. In the bedroom, he had more leverage to tickle her with her pinned beneath him the worry of her getting hurt not on his mind because she was on a mattress. She probably underwent more tickle-torture just now than she would have in the bathroom. But in the bathroom, she wouldn't be in the position she was now.

The tickling had sucked, but the outcome was hardly terrible.

Realizing she'd yet to reply, she licked her suddenly dry lips and replied, "I think I prefer the bedroom."

He nodded, reading between the lines, and said, "Good answer."

She wasn't entirely sure who initiated the kiss but she decided that she didn't care, her hands clutching at his shoulders as he deepened the kiss.

Wrapping her arms around his back, she reciprocated with equal passion, releasing a soft moan into his mouth when his hand ran down her side, a far more pleasant sensation following. She nearly purred when he planted kisses on her neck, nipping sharply before soothing the insult with his tongue and lips. The attention he was bestowing on her neck along with his hand slipping under her shirt to tease the sensitive skin of her side forced her to rub her legs together tightly in an attempt to alleviate that had settled in her core.

Her action did not go unnoticed and Piers shifted above her.

Nudging her legs apart with his knees, he settled himself in the cradle her legs created and both groaned at the contact. For him, it was obviously a sound of pleasure, the obvious arousal in his jeans pressing against her, but for Riley, her groan was one of frustration. With her legs on either side of his narrow hips, him keeping her hips pressed firmly to the mattress, she could get no relief.

When she rotated her hips against him to sooth the ache, he groaned and reached for her hips to hold her still. "How sure are you about this?" he asked huskily. "Your 'no strings attached' decision is great, but I don't intend to walk away after all this is over. I don't want to screw things up, so if you're not sure about this, tell me now."

So he did hope that things worked out for the best between them once everything was over. That was great to know and a huge relief. Worrying on her lower lip, she took a second to think. No strings attached sounded good in theory, but she wasn't the kind of woman to sleep with a guy and expect nothing once all was said in done. She didn't want to lose Piers and would take what she could get, but just as he didn't intend to walk away, she didn't plan to either.

Raising her hand, she traced the scars on the right side of his face, his slight stubble scrapping her fingers, and she smiled softly when he pressed his head more firmly into her hand. "I'm very sure," she assured him just before tugging him back down to her for a passionate kiss.

Satisfied with her answer, he responded to her kiss in spades, separating just long enough to tug his shirt over his head and relieve her of her tank top. As he kissed her, he reached behind her and fought with the hooks for her bra, growling in frustration when he couldn't get it off.

Riley had to laugh softly at his difficulty and frustration. The man could take apart a gun and put it back together in record time but he couldn't find his way around the two simple hooks of her bra.

Reaching back, she felt around for the hooks before deftly unhooking them while he helped her by sliding the straps down her arms and tossing the garment aside before pulling her flush against his chest and claiming her mouth again. A soft moan flowed from her mouth to his at the feel of his bare chest hot against hers, and she reached between them, wanting to feel more and tugged at his belt to relieve some of the tension he too must be feeling.

It occurred to her that they should probably take it slow, learn what each other liked, but she was as impatient as ever. By how Piers was pulling at the button and zipper of her own jeans, she guessed that the feeling was mutual.

Breaking their heated kiss, he sat up and pulled her jeans and panties down her legs, tugging her socks off before throwing her clothes somewhere in the room. He stared down at her, eyes incredibly dark with lust and passion, and she felt her skin heat up under his gaze. Swallowing thickly, he hurried with his boots, jeans, and boxers, tossing them away before settling between her legs and pressing kisses to the column of her neck, nipping at a certain spot that had her arching against him. She was so entranced with the attention he was bestowing on her neck that she didn't notice his right hand moving downward until it came into contact center.

Her whimpers turned into soft cries and she bit her lower lip as his talented fingers worked her towards her climax. Warmth settled deep in her belly and she turned her head to the side, whimpering desperately and moving her hips in time with his fingers. But just when she neared the edge, he eased up and removed his hand from her.

She groaned in pure frustration while he lightly chuckled in a smug sort of way against her neck.

If that was how he wanted to play it…

Reaching between them, she took his impressive length in her small hand and slowly stroked him, smiling in satisfaction when he pressed his forehead into her shoulder and took a shaky breath. She continued on, quickening the movements of her hand until his hips started moving of their own accord. Right when his breathing started coming in gasps, she let go.

"Damn it, Riley!" he hissed shakily against her shoulder.

"Payback's a bitch, huh, Piers?" she questioned innocently with a smile.

He responded by catching her lips in a demanding kiss while his hand moved to her thigh, bringing it higher on his hip as he positioned himself at her entrance.

She closed her eyes in anticipation, worrying her lower lip and grasping at his back.

Pulling away from their kiss, he urged huskily, "Look at me."

Opening her eyes, she met his darkened hazel eyes with her green ones, getting lost in them when he finally pushed into her.

Their eyes remained locked, the height difference meaning that he had to arch his back to keep from breaking eye contact.

He rocked against her slowly at first, giving her time to adjust, and she couldn't help but let her eyes fall shut with the intense pleasure each thrust brought. It had been far too long since she'd had sex, and even longer since she shared herself with someone she actually cared a great deal about. The difference between casual sex and sex with someone who you cared about was night and day in her book.

Threading the fingers of her right hand through his short brown hair, her other clutching at his back, she raised her hips against him, urging him to pick up the pace. "Please…" she begged on a breathy moan, not entirely sure what she was asking for apart from more.

Understanding what it was that she wanted, he nodded mutely and increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his left hand sliding under her rear to guide her through each thrust that sent wave after wave of pleasure through her over-stimulated body. Each movement tightened the coil deep within her and she knew that she wouldn't last much longer, whimpering and tightening her grip on Piers' back while her other hand moved to hold onto the back of his neck, her blunt nails biting into his skin and making him hiss in pained pleasure.

For a while, nothing else existed but them. There was no C-Virus, Merrick was nothing but a bad dream, and there was no threat of being arrested for bio-terrorism. For a while, they were just two people losing themselves in the other.

Before she knew it, her body stiffened as she fell over the edge with a cry, intense pleasure washing over her and making her gasp for breath, eyes tightly shut.

Piers lowered his head and captured her lips in a rough, passionate kiss that stole the breath she'd tried to take. He thrust once more, twice, before he went ridged above her and held her tightly to him, a ragged grunt escaping him as he pressed his forehead against hers. A time later he loosened his hold and braced his arms arms on either side of her, his body – especially his right arm – shaking with the effort it took to keep from placing his full weight on her small body.

He made to roll off of her but she held him tighter.

"Not yet," she murmured, wanting the moment to last as long as possible. She wanted to add that the sex was amazing, that _he _was amazing, but she didn't want to ruin the moment with a cliché compliment, no matter how true it was.

He smiled tiredly and kissed the side of her head. Tightening his arms around her, he rolled them over so that she was on top and still in his arms. Reaching for one of the blankets they'd brought with them, he draped it over them as best as he could without her needing to get off of him. Satisfied that they wouldn't catch cold with the sweat cooling their feverish bodies, he relaxed and trailed his hand up and down her back soothingly.

The change of position was much more comfortable and the blanket, though fairly old, was one of Chris and Jill's warmest and she made a mental note to thank them for it when she talked to them again.

"Hey, uh, Riley?" Piers' started, a worried edge to his voice. "You're on the pill, right?"

Riley smiled, pressing the side of her head against his chest to listen to his racing heartbeat. "A little late to be asking, don't you think?"

"Riley –"

"Yes, Piers," she assured him. "I'm on the pill."

He sighed in relief and she felt his heart slow to a more normal pace beneath her cheek. It would have been better if they'd both been using protection, but she was at least protected so hopefully they wouldn't have to worry about anything. Neither of them needed that headache.

Piers ran his hand through her hair affectionately. "I meant what I said, Riley. I don't intend to walk away once everything is over."

Her smile grew and she drew her arms and legs closer around him, basking in the warmth of his hard body beneath her and the blanket over them.

"Guess my idea of a 'no strings attached' relationship was better in theory," she speculated lightly. "Because I'm not going anywhere either."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence and Riley became increasingly aware of just how tired she was and yawned, her eyes growing heavy. But she didn't want to sleep because she'd eventually have to wake up and face the threat that was Merrick, his daughter, and the C-Virus. She wished that for once everything could be normal and she could wake up in Piers' arms like a normal woman.

Feeling her stiffen slightly, Piers gave her a light squeeze before kissing the top of her head, and he murmured, "Get some sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow's another day."

That was easy for him to say. He was used to living a life where each day brought a new threat. While she went to war zones, she was just a virologist, not a soldier. The thought of tomorrow frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

But she was so very tired, Piers having done a terrific job at wearing her out.

So, getting comfortably atop of him, she let her eyes drift shut and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Tomorrow would come whether she wanted it to or not, but for now she was safe with Piers and that was all that mattered.

* * *

_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


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